Once and Future
by TeaOli
Summary: Sometimes love can conquer even the hands of time. And sometimes even the greatest loves can't overcome circumstance. Complete.
1. What Was

Her first weeks in Ambassador Spock's household were spent getting to know the older incarnation of the man she had once believed would be her life-mate.

The two Spocks were not so different as one might have imagined; she came to understand that rather quickly. There were more than just traces of the person she loved in the one whose home she now shared.

At times that was a comfort – almost as if little in her life had changed beyond the lines carved into _this_ Spock's face and her current living conditions; at others, she felt something akin to the slow torture of having everything one wants nearby, but just out of reach. It was a difficult balance, but it was infinitely more bearable than what she'd endured working alongside her beloved on _the Enterprise_.

"Were you and your Uhura friends?" she asked. "I mean, I understand you and she were never… were never lovers. But I just wondered if you were… close, at all." Her words were calm, unlaced with embarrassment or anxiety; her hesitation was borne solely her knowledge that such a line of questioning touched on – no stomped all over, to use an old Terran turn of phrase – areas considered extremely private, especially by the standards of his intensely private father-race.

For a moment, she thought he might not answer. Perhaps she'd tried to delve too deep, after all. From the first, she'd found this man to be more open than other Vulcans in general, and much more so than her own Spock – _No! I mustn't continue to think of him as _my_ Spock_ – in particular. Even so, in talking about his past/future he'd been somewhat more reticent than when discussing other topics.

Before he could deny her a response, she turned back to the kitchen and retrieved the final serving dish for their meal. When she returned to the dining area, he was as she'd left him, standing by the table, hand clasping wrist behind his back. Watching her.

She set the bowl of steamed mixed greens on the table and moved to sit down.

He grabbed her forearms before she was halfway into her seat.

"Nyota," he said, his dark gaze never leaving hers, "I have never said that Uhura and I were never lovers."

She felt her eyes widening. Her breath catching. She was certain the strength behind his gentle hold, still apparent despite his advanced years, was the only thing keeping her weakened knees from forcing her to crumple to the floor.

As if sensing her condition – _undoubtedly_ sensing her weakness – Spock eased her back until the backs of those knees were touching her chair. Gently, he lowered her until she was seated, then he stepped back and released her arms.

"It is, perhaps, unfortunate, that we did not discover each other until much later in life," he told her. "More accurately, I suppose I should say the misfortune was that I did not realize her value to me before several decades after our initial introduction had passed."

He sat down across from her and began filling his plate before continuing his tale. Woodenly, and with little conscious thought, Uhura followed suit.

"By the time I realized I belonged at her side," he said as he selected a forkful of rice and of the steamed greens, "it was too late. She was nearly lost to me. Regret is illogical, but I cannot but regret that I did not have time with her in our youth, as you and your k'diwa have had."

_Not _my_ k'diwa_, an insidious voice in Uhura's head reminded her. _Not anymore_. But she didn't verbalize her protest. Spock had finished eating his first bite of their meal, and was speaking again.

"There were many times over the years when she provided to me a service to me which I trusted no other to fill," he admitted. From his tilted head and intense gaze, she suspected she knew exactly what that service had been. "She was one of my closest, dearest friends at the time, but I thought nothing more of our relationship. In truth, I barely acknowledged _that_ role, which she nonetheless faithfully fulfilled .

"We did not speak of those times after they had passed — not unless there was cause, and there rarely was — but I was able to find comfort in the knowledge that she was strong enough to aid me in my times of need."

If there had been any doubt in her mind about what he referred to, his last words had obliterated it.

"But later," he continued, "much later, I became aware of what I most likely should have known all along."

Uhura wasn't sure of what to say to his confession. She wasn't certain that it even required input from her. So, instead of commenting, she ate.

Much like her own Spock – _not mine!_ – she had learned, this Spock would continue to tell his story until it was done, or until he felt he had shared enough. Unlike the Spock she had for years loved quietly and secretly, then fiercely and openly for equally as long, this half-Vulcan's mind was unlikely to change because of anything _she_ might do.

_Not that you could change_ his _mind, either, in the end_, the insidious voice whispered to her.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. Uhura, because she wanted to ask "why?" and "how?" and "what changed?"; Spock because his mind was with a woman from his past/future, and who was now out of his reach.

* * *

**A/N:** Before this goes any further, I must acknowledge a few other writers whose fics inspired me.

– First, there is TalesFromTheSpockSide, who wrote the wonderful _Spock's prime_, and who assured me I'm not a total perve for lusting after man who's my grandmother's age. (Come on, admit it; Leonard Nimoy is _still_ sexy.) Read _Spock's prime_. It'll blow you away. Actually, everything she writes kick ass, but her vision of the original Spock is (mostly) the man I envisioned for _this_ fic.

(Actually, I probably owe a debt of gratitude to anyone who has written Spock Prime as having more depth than a robot, but SpockSide's is _the one_.)

– Secondly, there is kalenel's _Reflections_. The tale runs the gamut from humor, to romance, to hurt/comfort, to angst on top of angst.

**A/N addendum: **After speaking with my dad, I realized that I never pointed out that this story has _nothing whatsoever_ to do with any of my other fics. Not even with my last procrastination project. The wedding is still on in _Compass_; still waiting for the birth of twins in _TCS_. Sorry for any confusion. Thanks for the reprimand, Daddy.

Usual disclaimers: I own nothing.


	2. What Is

After eating, they sat together on the small sofa in Spock's sitting room and watched the moon rising in the new colony planet's sky. He could almost feel her curiosity about his unfinished story, but understood that she would not ask him to share more than he was able. In that, she was much like the Uhura from his past/future, and he was grateful to know it. Still, he knew something of what she had suffered over the past two months and four days, and felt certain that continuing his tale to its conclusion would offer her a measure of comfort.

"I loved her, Nyota," he said, "and I love her still, although we could not bond in the Vulcan way."

She opened her mouth, perhaps to argue his choice of "could not", perhaps to ask the "why?" he was certain she'd wanted to ask at the dinner table, but had held off in order to spare him further pain. Her intent did not matter. He was not finished speaking.

"You understand that it is difficult for those of my father's race to speak of things such as this," he said before she could utter whatever was on the tip of her tongue. "When I was your k'diwa's age, it was even more difficult for me to speak, or even to think, of such things. But I have had more than a century to find… peace with it, and I would like to share with you what life we shared in my time."

Her mouth fell open just a bit. She was taken aback, he could see. Certainly confused, most likely flattered… He saw she was eager to know what he knew, but too polite to push to have her curiosity sated.

"Thank you, Spock," she managed after a short pause.

"I saw my mixed heritage much as the burden other Vulcans thought it to be, though not quite as the _disadvantage_ others likened it to," he began. "I was made aware of how it set me apart from the rest of my world, and I worked hard to compensate for what others saw as my weaknesses. In that, at least, I was successful.

"I exceeded all expectations, low as most of them proved to be, and further, my successes were greater even than those of many full-Vulcans my age. I felt no pride in this, for pride is not the Vulcan way, and I had chosen to live my life according to Vulcan strictures.

"There was only relief that I did not fail in my endeavors, thus making them believe they had been proven correct."

He turned to see her reaction to all he had said so far, but her gaze was trained on the window and the moonrise beyond.

"She asked me about the full moon on Vulcan, once," he said, making no attempt to hide the nostalgia in his voice. "I told her Vulcan had no moon.

"She would laugh to see this scene. Though you must not believe that she would have been unaffected by the tragedy that befell my people. She would understand, I believe, that I chose this planet, in part at least, for her."

At this, she did look at her companion. As if freed from whatever invisible bonds had held her in check before, she asked her second question of the night.

"What happened?"

Eighty-three point seven seconds passed before Spock felt ready – able – to reply to such a simple question. The answer was far from simple.

"I fell in love, as I have already told you," he said. "But I waited too long to know it."

The old half-Vulcan shifted in his seat and turned towards his young human companion. He took her hand in his, knowing that the thoughts and feelings he could transfer through the contact would help her understand in a way words were too limited to convey. With a mind meld, he could have told her all in a fraction of the time, he knew. But he would not risk it in what was still an unsettled time in her life. And, he would admit if asked, he _wanted_ to say these things aloud. He needed to hear his voice speaking about the woman who'd helped shape the man who sat before this Nyota Uhura.

She squeezed his hand encouragingly, and he let her feel some of the confusion and frustration that had marked the first years of his acquaintance with her other self.

"We met when she was assigned to the Enterprise as its senior communications officer," he said. "I did not know her at the Academy, and at first, she was little more than what her record showed her to be: extremely competent in her field – both in her knowledge of the galaxy's languages and in her technical abilities. I knew of no one else better equipped to handle the unique requirements of the Federation flagship under the captainship of James T. Kirk.

"She was able to perform delicate repairs to the communications system under duress, address the representatives of many cultures without giving offense and still, she managed to charm almost every male on the ship. Even I was not immune, though I was not yet one of her suitors."

Spock projected his fondness and professional admiration for his old friend through his link to her younger counterpart.

"She was, of course, very beautiful, and not unaware of this fact," he said with a small smile that was far larger than any that the younger Spock would have allowed. "She delighted in teasing me, testing my commitment to abstain from expressing my emotions. There were times when she was successful.

"Looking back, it is not unreasonable to think 'Of course I loved her' and, indeed, I have often entertained just that thought, " he told Uhura. "But, in all the years we served together, I never acknowledged, or was even aware of, feeling that way. Even while we were sharing physical intimacies, I believed that I turned to her because I trusted her implicitly."

He smiled again, broader this time, and lifted an eyebrow for good measure.

"And because she offered a more effective remedy than meditation."

He allowed a _frisson_ of the smallest part of the pleasures he'd shared long ago to flow through their connection. Not much – this was not his Uhura sitting beside him, he knew – but enough so that she understood that their couplings had been… passionate and pleasing to both parties.

"She was my friend and we shared many adventures together both during and after our service on the Enterprise. But it is the after, I think, that will matter most to you."

He closed his eyes, and through decades of long practice, kept his feelings from her. The rest of what he had to say would be the most difficult of all he had to share with her, and he wished to spare her his anguish before it was completely necessary.

"For over thirty years," he said, "we continued in this vein, until she left the Enterprise for good. Still, we were much in one another's company whenever possible. And even when our responsibilities took us places far away from the other, she was there, every seven years, when I had need of her.

"Do not think that my affection for her did not grow over that time. It was inevitable, given our natures, that such would occur. But I did not have a name for what was happening between us until long after I believed such times should have passed."

He paused again, searching for the best words to explain what had happened so long ago.

"Just over seventy years from this date in my time," he continued, as she sat, rapt, "the Nyota Uhura I knew was altered. It wasn't until after this occurred that I realized what she knew all along: our two hearts were meant to beat together. In my blindness, I had lost the chance to bond to my t'hai'la."

Uhura's full attention was his.

"I do not know the full details of what happened to her. I only know that her life was saved, much of her youth was restored and that she now owes a debt. Until that debt is repaid, she must continue on, untouched by time."

Unable to hold back, she gasped.

"You mean, you mean she's still – you mean she was still alive when you… left your time?" she choked out.

"She was," he replied gravely. "And though she believes her long life to be a curse, I know that it is what gave me time to learn the depth of my love for her."

* * *

**A/N:** Hope this answers some of your questions. I'll get to the ones about the other Spock tomorrow, hopefully. I'm already four minutes late in posting this. Hot off the presses because of time constraints. I'll edit later.

Usual disclaimers: I own nothing.


	3. What Could Be

His sorrow, leavened with hope and love, and tinged with resignation, streamed through the link. All of those paled in the presence of her shock, confusion and… fear. _What was he saying? What could he mean?_

Spock was silent as her thoughts rocketed through her mind. On some level, Uhura was aware that he was giving her time to process his words. She wasn't certain a lifetime would be long enough to make sense of his revelations. _A lifetime_.

A curse, he'd said. His Nyota Uhura saw her expanded lifetime as a curse. In spite of having love and, relative to her actual years, at least a _physical_ manifestation of youth. Presumably she had health, as well. Why, if these were all the case, a curse?

With some effort, she recalled the control she'd learned in her years as another Spock's lover. She sorted through the emotions that trailed her wildly spinning thoughts. The Ambassador's feelings were relegated to the back of her mind. Her confusion was contracted. Her curiosity organized into coherent questions.

Her exertions were not as smoothly executed, nor were the results as neatly ordered, as one would expect from a Vulcan mind. But she was not Vulcan and the outcome was sufficient to her needs.

"Is she – was she – well?" she asked first. Long life did not necessarily go hand-in-hand with good health. It was best not to begin with assumptions that it did.

As is sensing her discomfort, or perhaps because the question was simple enough to answer, Spock didn't hesitate this time.

"Her physical condition was as close to optimal as one might reasonably expect from a Terran woman of approximately fifty years of age," he told. "Her mental and emotional states, in spite of her unique circumstances, were likewise sound."

Confusion edged up out of its constraints. Uhura quickly quashed it. Later, there should be time enough to ask how someone remained mentally and emotionally sound while believing herself cursed. But…

"I thought you said she was 'altered' in the equivalent of seventy years from now," she mused. "How can she be like a fifty-year-old, a _healthy_ fifty-year-old, if so much time had already passed before she was… changed?"

She could feel reassurance and comfort emanating from the link. Of _course_, Spock knew she was afraid. Of course he would want to soothe her.

"If you remember, I also told you that whatever it was that caused her change, restored much of her youth when it saved her life. She is now, or she was when I was last with her, much as I remember her from the time when she truly was a fifty-year-old woman," he explained. "She is as she was then, except perhaps… stronger."

Uhura soaked in the comfort he offered, bizarre though it may be that it was needed. She didn't even _know_ this other version of herself. Why should she worry about her so? Still, things were as they were. There was no value to questioning _why_ at this moment.

"Is she – do you think she's worried about you? Because you didn't come back?" she asked him, because that was the crux of her concern. For a woman who'd lost so much, even as she'd gained so much, surely having her lover taken away, without explanation, would be… _it would be unbearable_, Uhura thought.

"I do not believe that she is concerned for my safety, if that is your meaning," he answered. "Before I left for the Romulan system, she bid me good-bye – not just farewell, you understand – and asked for my pledge that I would improve the world for those who came before. At the time, I did not understand her meaning, but promised to do my best all the same."

Another wave of shock rolled through the young lieutenant.

"You mean, you think she _knew_ what would happen?" she asked, incredulity coloring her voice.

Spock's face, often so much more expressive than that of his younger equivalent, was as grave as his voice when he said, "Since her alteration, it was not unusual for her to know what was to come."

As she processed what he had said, as his words took on meaning, as she began to understand, Uhura felt his sorrow become her own.

"She _knew_," she whispered, "and she still let you go. She had you, and she sent you away without trying to stop you. She _knew_."

Anguish mixed with an overwhelming sense of affection, and she lifted her free hand to caress the face of the man who held her other one in both of his.

"How could she have let you _go_?" Pain turned her question into a plea for understanding. She leaned in to rest her cheek against his shoulder as tears spilled from her eyes. "She had _everything_, and she let it walk away."

________________________________

There had been no talking as Uhura's body had been wracked with her sobs. She was, Spock realized, crying as much for her own loss as she was for his. He didn't comment on this, or shy away from her display of intense emotion. Nor did he release her hand to lessen the impact her feelings had on his own mind. Those methods of finding solace in logic – in the avoidance of emotion, really – had faded away with his distant past.

Instead, he tugged her into his lap and encircled her in his arms, somehow holding on to her hand until the shuddering sobs eased. The woman in his arms was not his t'hai'la, but she was Nyota Uhura enough that he found himself thinking he'd give anything to spare her pain.

Knowing that was impossible, he offered her what he relief he could.

"He loves you, Nyota. And the distance between you will not last," he told her. His words were a promise. "By my oath, it is not just my duty to rebuild my people. I have also sworn to keep you two from making the choices Nyota and I made. It was my _pledge_. I will not fail her."

When she responded, her voice was so quiet that even his Vulcan hearing would have been hard-pressed to make out what she said, had it not been for their link.

"How, Spock? How can you promise us that when he walked away from me and _nothing_ I said would change his mind?"

Saying nothing, Spock lifted one hand to stroke her cheek, wiping away her tears. Long slender fingers moved towards her contacts points, hesitating before moving into position.

"Yes," she said in answer to unspoken question.

And then she felt his presence slip softly into her consciousness.

* * *

**Her quarters, after Bridge Crew's Alpha Shift:**

"_That doesn't make sense!" she says, her barely controlled anger made evident by the fingernails cutting into her palms. "You've already chosen. You _told _them. You chose us. You chose me and you chose Starfleet."_

_The tall Starfleet commander standing before her wears little expression, save his sad eyes._

"_I said only that I will wait until the Enterprise has completed her mission before I fulfill my duties to Vulcan," he says for what feels like the hundredth time. _

"_Just like that, Spock? Just like that, this – _we_ – no longer matter?" she asks, her anger having morphed into an agonizing pain._

"_I am sorry, Nyota," he says. And then he walks away from her. _

_The doors leading from her quarters whoosh open._

_She is alone with her breaking heart._

Not alone, Spock told her through the meld. Never alone.

__________________

**His quarters, sometime between ship's midnight and ship's dawn:**

"_I have already explained this to you. My duty to my father's people outweighs my own desires. My people are nearly extinct! You cannot ignore that fact, Nyota," he tells her, whispering in the dark. "What we want does not matter in the face of what could yet befall them. You are not so selfish as to put your needs above those of an entire race."_

"_I'm not as unselfish as you think I am," she whispers back. She rubs away her tears into the hot skin of his chest. "I don't want to let you go."_

_His arm tightens around her, his other hand strokes her head._

"_You are wrong, my love," he says, his voice already tight with pain and loss. "Your generosity sets you apart from everyone around you. It makes you even more worthy of love."_

_If things were different, she thinks, she would laugh at his illogical statement. The idea that she was more _worthy_ of love than anyone else was not reasonable. She is amazed that she can recognize humor in this situation, even if she can't really _feel_ it._

_She wonders if their lovemaking was a sign that she has become a masochist._

It is not wrong to have expressed your love physically, the presence said. It is only natural to want to cling to what might soon be lost.

__________________

**Captain's Ready Room, Alpha Shift: **

"_I believe this course of action to be unwise, Captain." Spock's eyes never leave Kirk's face, but Uhura feels as if he can see into her soul. "The Enterprise requires the best that Starfleet has to offer. In this case, Lt. Uhura is the best."_

_Kirk appears uncomfortable. At a loss for words, even. It isn't something she is accustomed to seeing in her captain._

"_It's only for three months, Jim," she tells him. Though her eyes are pleading, her voice is firm. "I'm entitled to leave. And I think it would be… prudent for me to take it at this time. It's best that I'm away while we're on a benign mission and among friends."_

_She sees Spock's jaw clench ever so slightly, though she is certain Kirk has not perceived it._

"_Captain," the first officer says, "I cannot disagree more. We will need the lieutenant's proven diplomatic grace and knowledge of my language and culture more than ever on this visit."_

_Kirk is clearly torn. In many ways, Spock is right. Even Uhura recognizes this. She is the most qualified communications officer onboard. But, she also knows she is the least qualified_ person_ to participate in their visit to the Vulcan colony. Spock's announcement is still too new, her knowledge of their eventual separation is too recent, for her to trust herself to control her feelings about the subject in front of their hosts._

"_Captain," Spock says, "to my people, Uhura holds nearly as much responsibility for our few survivors as you have, as I have. While they will not hold her – or any of us – up as a hero, it would be considered an insult if she was absent for our first official visit."_

_She knows the instant Kirk concedes to the half-Vulcans logic. She understands she will have no reprieve._

_She feels Spock's eyes on her now. It feels as if her heart is breaking all over again. She wonders if he is still sorry._

It was right to bring you here, Ambassador Spock told her. He was correct in his interpretation of how our people would have perceived your absence. But you know that was not the reason why he would not let you go.

__________________

**Temporary Federation Regional Headquarters, Vulcan colony:**

"_Captain," she says when Kirk walks into the office assigned to him during their stay. She has been waiting for him for two hours. "I need to speak with you about a private matter."_

_Only one week remains of their two-month visit. It is the first time she has been able to catch him alone._

"_Of course, Uhura," he tells her, an understanding smile already spreading across his face. She knows he can't help trying to charm females. "Though, if it's a private matter, shouldn't you be calling me 'Jim'."_

_She smiles at his mild attempt at flirting._

"_It's also a professional matter… Jim," she confesses. "I wanted to talk to you about my leave. Ambassador Spock has invited me to take it here. I could stay with him."_

_She believes she knows what her captain is thinking. _Is she thinking of exchanging one half-Vulcan for another? This one is old and wrinkled, but at least his face moves. _She knows that although Jim Kirk has forged a nascent friendship with his first officer over the past twenty-two months, he is still more comfortable in the presence of the older Spock._

_She knows the instant he decides to grant her wish._

__________________

**Ambassador Spock's house, Vulcan colony:**

_Spock looks into the fiery eyes of his younger self. He doesn't believe that the commander will strike him, but he knows he must tread carefully._

"_She needs time to find her balance," he tells him – himself. "It is a part of human nature you will learn soon enough, if you have not learned it already. Sometimes, they must step away from a situation in order to see it more clearly."_

"_Nyota is not like other humans," young Spock protests. "She is intelligent enough to already have seen it clearly. Her strength of character would not have led her to this point if you had extended your invitation."_

_Spock would pity this man if he didn't know exactly what motivated him. If he didn't know that the man's judgment was clouded by a selfish desire to hold onto what his younger self already decided could not be his. _

_He reaches out and places a hand on young Spock's shoulder. It is a liberty he would not take with any other Vulcan. And, although the fabric of the younger man's shirt prevents skin-to-skin contact, their very nature – their _sameness_ – allows him to see another reason for the other man's protest._

_Commander Spock is jealous. He is afraid he will lose Nyota Uhura to his other self. He does not see that one cannot lose what one has already given up._

__________________

Uhura jerked in surprise at this new piece of information. Spock's hand fell from her face and the meld is broken.

"You see? It is not over," he told her.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter ended up being quite a bit longer than I'd originally intended. Hope _some_ of this is starting to make sense to y'all.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.


	4. What Is Hoped

The young woman lying beside him stirred. She rolled towards his heat, her hands scrabbling at his nightshirt.

"Spock," she whispered without opening her eyes.

He pulled her against his chest and wrapped an arm firmly about her waist. She nuzzled her face in the soft fabric covering his hot skin and settled back into sleep.

Once again, Spock felt an illogical urge to protect her from any and all pain. He wasn't sure whether the meld would bring her the comfort he'd intended; as he'd told the other Spock, humans needed more time to process information. This was especially true when knowledge came wrapped in a shroud of intense emotion.

She'd been shaken when she'd emerged from their thought-sharing. Much too affected to speak of what she had learned. He hadn't tried to stop her or question her when she'd climbed from his lap and retreated to her sleeping chamber.

He'd still been sitting on the small sofa when she emerged, half an hour later, showered and dressed for sleep. And when she'd silently held her hand out to him, he'd allowed her to lead him to his own bed.

She hadn't cried again. Though he'd found her curled up into herself when he come out of his bathing chamber, where he had prepared for his own rest, her eyes had been open and dry. She made no attempt to move closer to him when he'd slid into the bed beside her and ordered the computer to dim the lights.

Now, with morning light just beginning to seep through the gauzy night curtains, he held her as she slept again. His thoughts turned back to his promise to his own Uhura. He would keep his word. He would not fail her.

* * *

Sarek, son of Skon, regarded his son. His impassive face did not disclose the disquiet that currently dominated his thoughts. The same circumstances which had torn his mate and his homeworld from him had also brought him a chance to know his son in a way he never had before.

As, in this manifestation, his son was his senior by many decades, he did not think it would be logical to offer the older man fatherly advice. Knowledge that his counterpart had maintained nearly twenty years of silence with the old Vulcan before him, however, led Sarek to consider defying logic and offering his counsel.

Spock, by contrast, and as evidenced by his propensity to openly express whatever his feelings, appeared to be perfectly content with the situation currently plaguing his father.

"It is my belief, Sa-mekh, that you will find that Nyota's extraordinary talents extend to the kitchen," he said as he placed a pitcher of fruit juice on the dining table. "It is pleasing that you have chosen to break your fast with us today. I can only apologize that a rather… difficult evening necessitated that she slept later this morning than she had intended. She refuses to use a replicator for meals, so we have a wait of twenty-three minutes before we may eat."

Sarek was unsure if his son's statement required verbal response, or even what the appropriate response might be if one were needed. He did not speak, but did incline his head in acknowledgment.

Silence stretched between the two men as Spock arranged napkins and utensils on the smooth wooden table. His father looked beyond him through the dining area window to the red cliffs beyond. They were so much like the ones they lost with Vulcan, and yet clearly not. Much had changed over the past two years. Sarek did not know how much more change would be needed, or tolerated, in the years to come.

"Are you certain of you course, sa-fu?" he asked. When his gaze returned to Spock, the wrinkled hands had finished their task and the man now sat at the table, watching his father. "You have already lived sixty-two more years than I have lived, but you have lived in a different world. Do you continue to believe that you know what is best for my son of _this_ world?"

He was disappointed to see discomfort flash across Spock's face. Not because he found his son's expression of emotions distasteful – on the contrary, this Spock reminded him in many ways of his lost wife – but because he was still conscious of how his counterpart's displeasure had reduced their relationship to one full of contention. He did not wish to make the same mistake.

"My son," he began, "I do not ask you this because I disapprove. I simply do not understand."

Spock gave a short nod.

"I am certain this is the right course, Father," he assured Sarek. "You could argue that every living Vulcan is needed to rebuild our race, and I would not dispute the logic of that. There are, however, several counter-arguments I could offer in favor of my plan. First, I am – we are –half-Vulcans. You already know from the difficulty you experienced in arranging my bond to T'Pring that not all Vulcans find my heritage acceptable."

Sarek nodded, but raised a hand when Spock would continue to present his line of reasoning.

"That is true, sa-fu. But Vulcan is gone, and we as Vulcans must be willing to change millennia of beliefs and practices if our race is to survive," he said. "You have said as much yourself many times."

"Yes, Father," his son replied. "It is true that Vulcans must change in order for the rebuilding to succeed. And I believe that they will. Even a half-Vulcan mate would be better than no mate at all. And a child who is three-quarters Vulcan would undoubtedly be more accepted in our new society than he or she would have been in the past."

He poured two glasses of the pale yellow juice and handed one to his father.

"Surely, however, at this point, our goals in selecting mates should be to provide as wide a genetic range as possible without outright violating our more closely held mores, should they not?" he asked, continuing to present his rationale. "If that is the case, then Spock has an advantage that no other Vulcan posses. He can be in two places at once."

Sarek quickly processed the meaning behind his son's statement.

"So, in your decision to devote your remaining years to the Vulcan people, you mean to include the possibility of taking a Vulcan mate, as well?" Sarek did not doubt that that was exactly what Spock was telling him, but he wanted to hear the admission from the other man's mouth.

"Not just the _possibility_, Father," Spock replied. "I _will_ take a Vulcan mate, if one that will have me can be found."

Again, Sarek nodded.

"Your logic is sound, sa-fu," he said. "I do not believe there will be a problem in finding a mate for you. All adults on the colony are aware of your accomplishments and of your commitment to our society. They will wish to aid you in your endeavors."

Mild surprise crossed Spock's face at Sarek's easy acquiescence.

"Thank you, Sa-mekh," he said, inclining his head again.

Sarek waived a dismissive hand.

"Your gratitude is not necessary, as I was simply stating facts," he retorted. "While I believe that it will not be necessary for Spock to return to us once you have bonded and produced offspring, I am still unsure of the… wisdom of the other course you follow."

He checked his internal clock. Sixteen minutes had passed since they had begun speaking. Nyota would be joining them in seven minutes if she was as punctual as she usually proved herself to be.

"Why are you convinced that this is the correct path for the Spock of this world?" he asked. "Are you perhaps influenced by your relationship with Nyota Uhura in the world you have left behind?"

Sarek did not miss the annoyance the appeared briefly on his son's face. It was quickly suppressed, he noted.

"Of course I am influenced, Sa-mekh," Spock said dispassionately. "She was my t'hai'la. She was my k'diwa, though she was never my bond-mate. But that alone is not what tells me that it is right that they should together.

He sipped from his glass.

"Nyota's difficult evening was partially my fault," he admitted. "For the first time, I told her shared with her my beliefs, as well as my history with her counterpart. She found my tale… unsettling. In an effort to comfort her, I initiated a meld. That, together with what I learned from an unintended link with my other self, left me with no doubt that they belong together."

Sarek observed his son silently for some moments before he became aware that the time Nyota was meant to appear was imminent.

"I will support your efforts, my son," he promised.

Nyota pushed through the swinging kitchen door – Spock preferred the simplicity of the design – carrying a small tureen.

"Ambassador Sarek," she said as she placed it on the table, "I must apologize for not having breakfast prepared upon your arrival."

Sarek looked up at the young human woman who apparently had captivated his son in two universes. She would make a good companion to either one, he saw.

"No apologies are needed," he assured her. "Please, join us. Sit."

Uhura complied, and waited until the two men had served themselves before taking her own portion.

Sarek tasted his first spoonful of plomeek soup.

"Ko-fu," he told Uhura, "your affinity for preparing Vulcan foods exceeds that which my mate was able to achieve in her nearly thirty years on Vulcan."

* * *

**A/N:** I don't actually have much to say in this note. I think the story is probably self-explanatory at this point. Y'all don't need any spoon-feeding, right?

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing, except maybe parts of the other Uhura's history.


	5. What Was Done

"Thank you, sir," Uhura told Sarek. Her voice did not betray the emotions swirling beneath her surface calm.

Afraid to question the meaning of an ex-lover's father calling her "daughter" and knowing there was no need for her to point out that the term was both imprecise and illogical when thus applied, she began eating her soup. So intent was her focus on eating, she noticed neither Spock's close scrutiny of her face, nor the glance he exchanged with his father before resuming his own meal.

_________________

Once breakfast had been consumed, the three remained at the table, talking about the progress of turning the colony into a new home for the Vulcan people. So many, and so much, had been lost, despite the much vaunted Vulcan intelligence and even with help coming from all members of the Federation, there were several areas where the colonists still lagged behind the point they had wished to reach by now.

"Among ancient Vulcans," Sarek explained, "the redevelopment of our communications networks would not be as pressing a matter as it is for us now. Their telepathic capabilities were not limited to communication through touch. With so few of us living here and living so close together, we have not yet faced any insurmountable problems. However, as the colony continues to grow, we will have to examine and overcome certain atmospheric and geological differences between this planet and Vulcan that currently appear as if they might prevent us from building systems like the one we were accustomed to using.

"As many of our communications specialists perished on the planet, it is possible the need will arise for us to send Vulcans off-planet in order to receive the training they will require if they are to work towards solving this problem. It is not a solution I or any of the High Council prefers, but it would be illogical not to consider it. "

Spock nodded in acknowledgement rather than complete agreement.

"It is not ideal to send any Vulcans away in order to meet one _possible, future_ need if doing so is in opposition of meeting our _definite_, _current_ purposes," he said. "We must weigh the value of one against the other if the situation comes to that. However, other solutions might be available to us. There are many communications specialists within the Federation who might find our climate hospitable enough to consider long-term assignments here as both technologists and as instructors. Indeed, I met several during my time at Starfleet Academy. There are certainly more currently serving in Starfleet now."

He turned to Uhura.

"Nyota, is your mother's brother not a communications technologist with Starfleet?"

Uhura nodded slowly. She thought she knew where he was going with this.

"Yes," she said. "Uncle Tabansi has come up with many advances in planetary and subspace communication technology."

"If I remember correctly," Spock said, "you are very close to him. He was instrumental in your decision to join Starfleet, was he not?"

"He was," she agreed. "And we are very close."

"And, was he, like you, raised in the United States of Africa?" Sarek asked.

Uhura smiled.

"Yes, sir, he was," she told him. "In his transmissions he often bemoans the cold winters and humid summers he has endured since he was posted to New York City."

* * *

The Enterprise mess hall at lunch was loud and lively. Jim Kirk frequently chose to take his meals there rather than the quieter officer's mess just for that reason. Plus, it was good for morale for the crew to see their captain wasn't above eating with them. For the past forty-seven days, however, it had been his _only_ choice. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a need for loud and lively.

"Saunders knows his way around a communications console, but you'd think if Uhura couldn't have left us with a little eye-candy, she could've at least left us with someone who actually has a personality," he grumbled to his lunch companions.

Leonard McCoy slapped him in the back of the head.

Hikaru Sulu almost managed to stifle his laughter.

"'Amen' to the eye-candy," he said between chuckles. "But, really, he's not as bad as you make him sound. I'm sure he'll be fine once he loosens up a bit."

Kirk glared at the helmsman over his hero sandwich.

"It's been almost two months, Lieutenant," he growled. "If he's not loose already, don't expect that to change before she gets back next month."

McCoy snickered and muttered something under his breath. All eyes turned to him.

"What was that, Bones?"

"I said he's stiffer than a Vulcan in need of an enema," the whiskey-voiced doctor replied.

Sulu and Kirk shared a look before both dropped their sandwiches back on their plates. Suddenly, neither felt very hungry.

* * *

The afternoon portion of Alpha Shift on the bridge was as boring as the crew had come to expect it to be over the past fifty or so days. Nothing much had happened as the Enterprise went about mapping this section of the galaxy, and nothing much was expected to happen.

"Captain." Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Saunders's stultifying voice drifted across the bridge. "I'm receiving an incoming message from the Vulcan colony."

All eyes (except Saunders's) flicked over to the tall first officer seated behind the command chair before snapping back to wherever they were supposed to be looking.

"Continue, Mr. Saunders," Kirk ordered.

"Ambassador Sarek is requesting a private audience, sir," was the listless reply.

This time the eyes remained on Spock. The half-Vulcan remained impassive.

Kirk jumped up from his chair and turned to Saunders.

"I'll take it my ready-room, Lieutenant," he said.

* * *

Kirk groaned, inaudibly he hoped, but didn't believe.

"I am not suggesting that Lt. Uhura prolong her visit indefinitely, Captain," Sarek said. "I believe that an extension of two additional months should be sufficient for her to complete her part in the training of our new communications specialists."

Kirk frowned. He felt the need to tread carefully with the Vulcan, and wasn't sure how best to proceed. After all, treading carefully wasn't usually his way. Crazy as it might sound, he wished Spock was participating in this conference. His first officer would likely be able to offer logical reasons to deny the ambassador's request, even if he had to manufacture them.

"Ambassador Sarek, may I speak to you frankly?" he asked after a long pause for consideration.

"Indeed," the Vulcan replied. "I should hope that you would not speak otherwise."

Suspecting that he was possibly being inexorably reeled in by Spock's father, Kirk sighed before continuing. _Damn! Trying to figure out Sarek is worse than dealing with his son. And trying to read Spock is like trying to read a damned statue most of the time._

"Sir, I'm pretty sure you're aware of the circumstances that led to Uhura remaining on the Vulcan colony," he said. "I know her very well, and I'd bet almost anything that in spite of those circumstances, ultimately, she'll want to return to the Enterprise at the current end of her leave just so she can spend as much time with Spock as possible before he leaves us permanently. I realize that doesn't sound very logical, sir, but as Uhura likes to say, she's human, and therefore an illogical woman."

He flashed his trademark grin, though he knew its efficacy would be basically nullified with a Vulcan. _So what._ He was pleased with how he'd handled himself. Really, it had been a lot easier than he'd thought it might be.

Sarek had watched him impassively throughout his whole, rather impressive, speech. Now, he responded without hesitation.

"Captain, you are in error," he said. "It would be only logical for Lt. Uhura to wish to return to my son's side if she believed that doing so would increase her likelihood of changing his mind about pursuing a life here. Your suggestion would not be at all illogical were there not one fact I believe you have not considered."

Once again, Kirk found himself frowning. It seemed as if the Vulcan ambassador had just complimented his logic and found it deficient all at once.

"And what would that factor be, Ambassador?"

"Have you forgotten, Captain, that there is also a Spock residing here on the colony?"

Although the stoic Vulcan face on the screen did not alter in the least, Kirk was pretty sure Sarek looked rather smug.

"May I get back to you with my decision, Ambassador?" the young captain managed to ask.

The ambassador inclined his head.

"Yes, of course, Captain," he said. "As there will be much to do in a limited amount to time, I hope that it is not unreasonable to request that you endeavor to have an answer for me no longer than a ship's week from now."

"I'll get back to you," Kirk promised.

Kirk sat alone in his ready room, head between his hands for sometime before he activated the comm and called the bridge.

"Mr. Spock," he said. "Please join me."

* * *

"I spoke with Captain Kirk today, sa-fu," Sarek told Spock that evening as the pair walked from the stately building serving as the Council Headquarters. "He was not receptive to the idea of Lt. Uhura remaining with us until her uncle is free to come, but he did not refuse my request outright."

Spock nodded to the younger Vulcan.

"No, I don't imagine he was," he replied. "Jim Kirk would believe it was his responsibility, above and beyond his obligations as a captain, to ensure his crew – especially those he also considers his friends – were not unduly discomfited by events unrelated to official duty."

"He has promised to give me an answer within a ship's week," said Sarek.

"Jim usually endeavors to keep his promises, Sa-mekh," Spock said, raising an eyebrow. "He will undoubtedly consult with his first officer before contacting you again."

"Yes," Sarek told him, "I imagined that he might."

* * *

**A/N :** Although I said that this fic is unrelated to my other ones, I should point out that Tabasni Wakufunzi _is_ a character from _Then Comes Spock_ and _Don't Lose Your_ _Compass_. He hasn't shown up in person (yet) in either of those, so he might be making his on-screen debut here.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing and no one except Saunders and Tabansi.


	6. What Is Suspected

Jim Kirk paced the sitting room of his quarters.

"You can't tell you don't have an opinion on this one, because I won't believe you," he told the man sitting, apparently composed, on his sofa. "And Vulcans can't lie."

Commander Spock forbore telling his captain the Vulcans were not neurologically in capable of telling untruths. They could hedge, dissemble, prevaricate or even outright lie if they so chose. For cultural reasons, however, they chose not to without the existence (or the belief in the existence) of a logical reason for doing so. He'd been listening to Kirk argue variations on a particular point every afternoon and evening for the past two days. He calculated that if this discussion was similar to the previous three, at the most he would have to remain another thirteen point eight minutes before he could return his own quarters.

"Captain," he said, "I am uncertain why you are consulting me on this matter. If you wish for me to confirm the validity of my father's request, then I must tell you that Lt. Uhura's skills and knowledge would be beneficial to the Vulcan people. Her understanding of, and her respect for, our culture will make learning from her a more palatable experience for her students. If you wish me to hypothesize on whether or not the terms would be equally acceptable to her, I cannot be of any use for you. The lieutenant's decision making processes have been… a mystery to me, of late."

Kirk glared at his first officer as he stalked past the sofa for the ninth time in the past twenty-eight minutes.

"Damn it, Spock!" he growled. "I'm not asking you whether or not the Vulcans need Uhura, or even if you think she'd want to help them. I already get it that she'd enjoy the challenge of it as much as she'd feel good about doing something for your people. I just need to know if you think it's a good thing, if you're okay with her being there."

Spock stood and clasped hands behind his back.

"It does not matter if _I_ am 'okay with' Lt. Uhura remaining in her current location, Captain," he said. "She chose a very capable communications officer to serve in her absence. Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Saunders perhaps lacks her aural sensitivity and may not be as extensively conversant in the same number of languages as she is, but he is nearly her equal in performing all other duties of a senior communications officer. The more pertinent question is: 'Are _you_ willing to let her perform a duty that will benefit a diminished, though arguably still important, member of the Federation, or will you require her to return to the Enterprise for reasons that have little to do with the continued success of its mission?'."

Kirk stopped pacing. He moved closer to Spock until the taller man's nose was only inches from his own.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he whispered fiercely. "You talk about Uhura's 'duty' and my 'willingness' as if we aren't talking about the woman you love. Don't tell me you aren't affected by this. Don't tell me none of it matters to you. What do _you_ want, Spock?"

There was no easy way to answer. Spock could not think of a logical reason to lie, but he did not want to tell Kirk that he wanted Nyota back on the ship and back in his bed. He did not think it would be good for the younger man to know that he wanted to be with her not just for the rest of her life, but for the rest of his own, as well. The captain didn't need to know that he found Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Saunders's presence on the bridge as annoying as everyone else did.

"What I want is irrelevant," he said instead. "Jim… I believe you are asking this of me as my… friend, rather than as my captain. It would be illogical for me to give you the answers you seek."

Jim Kirk was nothing if not adaptable. In mere seconds he was over the double shock of hearing Spock call him both "Jim" and "friend."

"You've got it all wrong, you imbecilic block of marble," he taunted, a wicked smile dancing across his face. "I'm _ordering_ you, as your captain, to. Tell. Me. What. You. Want."

Spock was annoyed, but not the least bit intimidated. His face and posture remained unchanged.

"As your query has no bearing on the safe operation of the Enterprise or on the successful completion of its mission, sir, I respectfully decline to answer it."

Kirk was not the least bit mollified or satisfied. He placed his hands on his hips and the smile on his face stretched into a grin.

"_Au contraire_, Mr. Spock," he protested, his tone best described as rather nasty. "The mental and emotion well-being of this ship's crew have a direct impact on its safe operation and on the success of our mission."

Suddenly, for reasons beyond Spock's comprehension, Kirk's shoulders loosened and the grin was replaced by a look of genuine concern.

"Come on, tell me what's going on with you," he cajoled. The note of arrogance had faded from his voice. "I mean it, Spock. I'm worried about you – as your friend. And as your captain, I'm really concerned that your ability to make informed decisions might be compromised."

Spock considered for a moment.

"In that case," he told Kirk, "there is even more reason to for you to disregard my opinions on this matter. However, Captain, I will say this: I watched my mother die and my planet implode and was able to serve on this ship after. It is illogical for you to believe that the end of a romantic liaison would have a greater effect on my performance."

The dark frown that closed in on Kirk's face would have led to an involuntary shudder in many. Spock only tilted his head to the side.

"God damn it! He's giving me fucking Vulcan logic!"

_His grumbling is worthy of Leonard McCoy_, Spock thought.

"God, Spock! I'm just worried about you! Do you understand that? We're all worried about you and none of us understands what's going on, or why Uhura is stuck to Ambassador Spock like glue or why your father is trying to keep her there."

Spock felt his body go stiff and motionless as a cold sensation spread from somewhere near his abdomen to his limbs. He could barely hear Kirk's continued rant. Eventually, he couldn't hear it at all.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he realized that he couldn't hear the captain because the man had stopped yelling, and was now staring at Spock.

"I was not aware that Nyota was still residing with Ambassador Spock. I was under the impression that her work with my father required her to be in his company more frequently."

"Aw, geez, Spock. You didn't know?" Kirk asked, suddenly contrite and even more worried at having tried to push his friend's buttons. "The three of them are practically playing happy families. They're practically always together, but I've never gotten a transmission from Uhura when the other Spock wasn't somewhere close by."

Spock thought of the scores of innocuous reasons which might cause that to be the case, and rejected them all. The cold increased.

"Captain," he said, "I believe it would be prudent for me to submit myself to Dr. McCoy's examination in order to determine whether or not I am fit for duty."

* * *

Ambassador Spock was not surprised to receive a communication request from Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise. If Uhura was at all disturbed that, after exchanging pleasantries and listening to several complaints about her "robotic" replacement, the captain asked to speak with the ambassador privately, she did not show it.

She cheerfully said her good-byes and left Spock's office, citing the need to prepare for a meeting with the new communications committee.

After Uhura's suspiciously acquiescent exit, Captain Kirk studied the elderly Vulcan face on the screen.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted with a huff of breath that was too harsh to be accurately labeled as a sigh. "I tried talking to Spock, but he wasn't any help. In fact, I may have made things worse. After our last _discussion_ he willing went to Bones for a mental and emotional eval."

Spock did not respond right away. There were several factors he would need to be privy to before he could offer insight that might be beneficial, and he needed time to compose his queries in a way that would not further distress this very young James Tiberius Kirk.

"What exactly was said that drove him to consult with the good doctor, Jim?" he asked at length.

Kirk looked sheepish.

"I, uh, maybe suggested that you and Uhura were spending a lot of time together," was the reply.

Spock kept his face carefully controlled, but did not try to mask the amusement in his eyes.

"Lt. Uhura is my guest during her stay," he said. "It is only reasonable to expect her to spend a large part of her time with me."

"Well, _yeah_, except if you're a crazy-jealous Vulcan ready to leap to the wrong conclusion," Kirk groused. "It, um, it _is_ the wrong conclusion, isn't it? Because when I talked to your dad, I, uh, got the impression that maybe… ."

Although he didn't complete the thought, Spock was astute enough to realize where he had been leading.

"My father has not discussed his desires or intentions with me beyond securing Lt. Uhura as an instructor," he said. His eyes positively sparkled. "I, however, have made him aware that I intend to secure a Vulcan mate in order to contribute to the effort of rebuilding our numbers. According to our healers, I am still capable of… making such a contribution to our people."

Kirk chuckled in spite of his obvious anxiety.

"The old guy still has some juice, huh?" he asked.

"Indeed," Spock said with a small smile of his own. Then he sobered. "You should understand that Lt. Uhura has begun to heal during her time here. That she is greatly needed is true, but I believe the greatest benefit has been to her own emotional well-being. I think the added challenge of helping to design a new planetary communications system and of training the men and women who will be building it will be good for her. She needs to feel needed, Jim. And here, she is both needed and wanted."

At that, Kirk turned serious again, as well.

"I'll take your thoughts under consideration," he said. "And, Spock? Thanks."

The older man nodded once. "I am at your service, Jim," was all he said, however.

________________

"What was that about?" Uhura asked upon her return half an hour later. Immediately, she noted Spock's hesitation. "Don't tell me if it's confidential. Or if telling me would make you feel uncomfortable."

She sat across his orderly desk from him and began fiddling with a PADD she placed on its surface.

Spock smiled inwardly. In this, at least, she was somewhat different from his own Nyota, who would have demanded he explain the conversation, no matter what. Perhaps, though, had he been her own Spock, he reflected, this Nyota would have similarly insisted on satisfying her curiosity.

"My father and the rest of the Council requested permission to approach you about extending your presence on the colony. As we discussed after breakfast four days ago, too many of our communications specialists perished on Vulcan for the current number, and available talent pool, to be sufficient to address the obstacles to building a planet-wide system which we believe we will face as the colony grows. They have determined that our best course would lie in inviting specialists and technologists from throughout the Federation planets to assist us. To that end, we have already chosen several potential students whose aptitude suggests they will be the most successful in this area of study. We have also secured the services of Tabansi Wakufunzi. His new assignment begins in two months, one week and four days.

"It would be good for the candidates we have selected to begin their training with you. Your knowledge of Vulcan culture would give you an advantage that few others share as you instruct them on the subject," he said, unwittingly echoing Commander Spock's sentiments. "We have projected that by the time your uncle arrives, they will be sufficiently accustomed to having a human instructor as to mitigate any… difficulties which might otherwise arise."

Uhura slanted a thoughtful glance on the old Vulcan.

"And it'll keep me off the Enterprise and out of Spock's face for another two months, too," she said with a surprisingly bright smile.

"Yes," Spock agreed with a frown.

He placed a hand over the one that still worried the PADD in front of her.

"Nyota, I have come to know the man who is my father in this universe better than I ever knew Sarek in my own," he said. "It is clear to me that what has befallen our people has made him more open to… recognizing emotional attachments. It is equally clear to me that he had begun to welcome you as one of those attachments. While it was logical of him to ask for your assistance in this project, I believe that his decision, at least in part, was made out of a desire for your continued emotional well-being."

Uhura said nothing, her face composed without falling into a Vulcan-like mask.

"You remind him, somewhat, of my mother," Spock continued, "and he has come to see you as a part of our family."

Uhura smirked at that.

"I noticed," she said.

Spock allowed a full smile to tug at his lips.

"Yes, I will admit to being surprised to hear him refer to you as 'ko-fu,'" he said. "It is most… unVulcan of him to be so sentimental as well as… imprecise."

He looked down at his hand, lying on top of hers.

"I believe that he would like the term to be less imprecise," he owned.

"I see," Uhura replied. She never had been slow to understand hidden meanings. "Huh."

"Yes," he agreed again.

She turned her hand so that they were touching palm-to-palm.

"Spock, I understand what you're saying, and I guess I'm… gratified that he feels that way about me, but I don't understand: which of you does he want me to be with?"

Until that moment, Spock would have sworn that his father had intended to lure the other Spock back into a relationship with the woman seated before him. But now she was absently running her thumb across the back of his hand, he noted that the sensation her actions inspired could be called neither friendly nor familial. At this moment, he understood what he suspected his father may have observed on seeing them together.

"I am not sure," he told her. His voice was just the tiniest bit hoarse.

* * *

**A/N:** One or two more chapters at the most.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.


	7. What Should Have Been

Uhura sat alone in Spock's kitchen. Though she'd used the evening meal as an excuse to escape the offices of the Vulcan High Council earlier than had been her wont, in truth there was little more she needed to do in the way of preparing the Terran-style dish she would be serving. It simply wanted a quick reheating once Spock and Sarek arrived.

She needed the time away from all the people who seemed to want something from her.

The Vulcans, she had believed, needed her to help design a communications system that was compatible with the colony's geology, geography and atmosphere. It was a challenge she'd found exciting enough to be worth contacting Scotty and requesting his thoughts and assistance. Now she knew they also wanted her to train the engineers and the technicians who would be building and operating it.

Ambassador had appeared to be offering her a chance to hide from her world and a place to lick her wounds. She was reasonably certain that this was still the case.

Ambassador Sarek's motives had been a mystery to her, but she'd accepted his felicity because to have done otherwise would not only have been churlish, but would also have failed to serve any purpose she could imagine. And, if she were being one hundred percent honest, a part of her had welcomed his apparent acceptance, even though she'd been convinced it was too little and too late. Her newly gained insight on the impetus for his behavior was disturbing. She thought she knew what he wanted, but had no clue about how wished that desire to manifest itself. She suspected he didn't care, either way.

Most disturbing of all, however, were Uhura's own thoughts.

She wasn't sure how much she disagreed with Spock's father.

____________________

By the time Sarek and Spock arrived later that evening, Uhura hadn't reached many conclusions, but she had an answer for the High Council's request and a plan to help her figure out the rest.

For the time being, she decided, she would allow herself to enjoy sharing a meal with two men she'd come to care for a great deal in a short space of time.

Sarek professed an interest in the traditional East African corn mush that accompanied the vegetable stew she'd provided.

"Its constituent parts are not complex, and yet the end result makes a pleasing accompaniment to the stew which served as your main course. Indeed, it would not be unpalatable alongside many Vulcan dishes," he remarked. "Considering the Wakufunzi family's commitment to preserving the cultures of your Africa, I am not surprised that you also excel in preparing your tradition foods."

"_Ugali_ is ridiculously simple to make," she told him. "I'm amazed that it took me so long to learn." She quickly described the steps involved in its preparation. "We ate it as a supplement to many dishes in my parents' home, but I never prepared it before I joined Starfleet."

Though he didn't express his surprise through facial expression, Sarek clearly hadn't anticipated learning this about her.

"Is cooking a recently acquired skill for you then, ko-fu?" he asked, intrigued. "If that is the case, I must conjecture that it is something to which you applied a determination and capacity for study similar to that which you have given to designing our new communications system. I know that engineering is not your specialty, and yet you have suggested several improvements that even our Vulcan engineers had not considered. Was your experience in learning to prepare meals akin to this?"

Uhura laughed before she could stop herself.

"As I told the committee yesterday, you can thank Montgomery Scott for many of the suggestions I have made," she said, brushing off any praise that may or may not have been implied. "I merely presented him with the parameters within which we must work, and he helped me to understand what we can and cannot do at this point in time."

"And yet you showed yourself to be sufficiently knowledgeable about the subject as to be able to answer some of the more pointed queries the committee presented to you," Sarek said.

"Well, yes," she said. "I was not completely unfamiliar with the engineering behind communications systems. Starfleet requires understanding of the basic tenets from all who choose my field."

Sarek inclined his head.

"I would hardly call you knowledge _basic_," he said.

She nodded. The questions that committee had asked her as they vetted her suitability had been far from basic.

"I required more of myself," she explained pointedly. "And during my time on the Enterprise, Mr. Scott helped me to build a more thorough familiarity."

At Sarek's acknowledging nod, she continued.

"As for my knowledge of cooking, you can thank _Spock_ for that. I rarely liked the foods offered in the mess halls at the Academy. He thought I should learn to cook," she told her companions. "He was right about that. As you observed earlier, he pointed out that my _mama's_ family was dedicated to preserving indigenous African languages. That went hand-in-hand with culture, but I'd never really been interested in learning about the food while I had my parents and aunties and uncles to provide me with my meals. Eating at the Academy proved to be a bit of a shock."

She stopped and smiled at the memory of her _baba's_ joyous shock when she first asked him for cooking lessons. Spock had willingly tasted her first independent attempts at simple _ugali_ and _sukuma wiki_. He'd patiently eaten through her adaptations and experiments. They hadn't even been lovers yet, she thought with another smile.

With a start, she realized she had been thinking of the younger Spock without pain slicing through her. She'd actually _smiled_ at a memory of him.

"As for the dishes I prepared tonight, I would be remiss if I allowed you to believe that it makes up a strictly a traditional East African meal," she said, forcing herself not to dwell on her thoughts of her k'diwa. "I substituted many Vulcan vegetables, as well as several from this planet, in making the stew, and I used Vulcan herbs to scent the ugali."

The elder Spock spoke up for the first time since the discourse on food had begun.

"Your adaptability is another admirable quality, Nyota," he said softly. "It is yet another reason why your endeavors during your short time with us have met with such success."

Uhura met his eyes and had to fight not to beam with pleasure at his compliment. As it was, she felt herself flush at the praise. His words were so… Spock-like, it was impossible for her not to be touched.

With some effort, she limited her response to, "Thank you, Spock."

_______________________________

Sarek departed for his own home only after the three had spent several hours discussing the plans for the comm network. Uhura found that she enjoyed bouncing her ideas off the two men. The whole evening, in fact, had been enjoyable.

Whereas she had once found her lover's father to be closed and somewhat forbidding, it appeared as if now that their connection was more tenuous – and now that he wanted to rectify that situation, or so it seemed to her – he was making an effort to both draw her out and bring her in. Whether it was due to the familiarity borne of constant use, of it was because she actually felt closer to the Vulcan, she realized she was no longer disturbed to hear him call her "ko-fu."

In spite of her long day, she didn't feel tired. When Spock invited her to watch the moon with him, she accepted readily.

Again, they sat on the small sofa in companionable silence, looking through the window at the moon.

"Tell me more about her," she said after a while.

Spock, to his credit, did not ask her to whom she referred.

"She is beautiful," he said. Then, with a wry smile, "But you already know that, of course.

"When we first met, she was less reserved than you have learned to be. Early on she asked why I did not tell her she was 'an attractive woman.' It was during that conversation that she first teased me about the Vulcan moon. She knew that Vulcan had no moon, but even then she knew, better than I, that we were well matched.

"Her patience with me, needless to say, was remarkable to the point that some would call heroic."

He turned to her and smiled as he took her hand and held it lightly in his.

"I wasted many years not recognizing what was before me. Yet, I made allowances for her behavior which I would not have tolerated from anyone else. She liked to touch me, even though she well knew that Vulcans are uncomfortable with casual touch. I did not protest.

"She has one of the most pleasing singing voices I have ever heard, and on more than one occasion, she used it against me in her teasing. I found I enjoyed being the object of her taunts.

"Many of the friends I made on the Enterprise took me to task for denying my human half. It annoyed me that they would not accept my choice to live a Vulcan life. They did not know the prejudice I had suffered on my homeworld because of my heritage, and I did not deign to share it with them. When she chastised me, however, I found I was disturbed in a way that protests from others failed to incite in me. I dismissed as illogical my desire to share my childhood with her.

"Eventually, I did, however. On the nights when she lay at my side, holding me through my most difficult moments, I allowed her to see what was inside of me, and in return she always gave me what I needed to hold the memories at bay.

"She did not wait for me," he told her. "Our relationship was not that cruel. She came close to falling in love with someone else once or twice, she told me later, but no one who she felt could be as right as I would have been.

"The day she almost died, I imagined that I was broken beyond repair. First there was an irrational desire to shake her and yell and make her see that a human woman in her nineties had no business serving on a mission that led into a poorly explored sector of the galaxy. It was as if whatever I held most dear had been ripped from my hands.

"It was in that moment that I realized that I loved her. Just when, or so I believed, she had been taken out of my reach forever, I understood that she was the other half of me.

"Before the events of the past two years, I never again knew devastation such as I felt when the word came that her ship had been destroyed."

Uhura laid her head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand as echoes of his pain translated themselves through their link.

"I spent many hours wrapped in my grief before I realized that I could still feel her inside me," he said. "We were not formally bonded, but we were linked in a way. You have a similar link with your Spock, do you not?"

Her answer was a choked, "I did. Once."

He caressed her cheek, a long thin finger sliding along her jawbone.

"No, Nyota," he whispered. "You are still a part of him. I can feel it when we touch."

He felt her instinctive denial, and knew when it was layered with a trace of hope.

"Through our similar link, I knew that my Nyota was still alive, although I did not understand how it could be possible.

"I arranged to travel to the sector where her ship had been destroyed. The trip took many weeks, and I had only her presence in my mind to guide me once I reached the area her crew had been mapping.

"I found her in the fifth week after my arrival. The planet that harbored her should have been inhospitable for a human woman her age, and yet she looked well. Better than well.

"She was as I have described her. Altered. Of course, I knew her immediately and our link assured me she was who she appeared to be. But she would not explain to me how she had survived beyond telling me that her life had come at great cost.

"And though I could finally admit my love for her, and she told me she had felt the same for nearly all the years of our acquaintance, she would not strengthen our link. She would not formalize our bond.

"It was enough, she said, that I finally knew that she was my t'hai'la and my k'diwa. She would not, she told me, force me to share her burden. Many years passed before I understood what she meant by that. And even after I better understood why she felt herself cursed, I would gladly have taken her 'burden' as my own."

* * *

**A/N:** I realize this one is kind of short and that it doesn't really move the story forward in a way all of you will appreciate, but it's needed.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.


	8. What Was Said

Intellectually, Jim Kirk was fully aware that he had not made a mistake in hitting up Admiral Christopher Pike for advice. He knew he needed the opinion of someone who, while knowing all the players, was a bit less invested in the entire situation. The man who had served as Spock's first captain, who had inadvertently brought Uhura into Kirk's life and convinced him to join Starfleet was the perfect choice.

But knowing these things couldn't make him like what he'd heard.

"Look, Jim, I don't know Uhura as well as I know you and Spock. Hell, I didn't even remember when she showed up the bridge before Vulcan! But I checked her out after we got back home," Pike had told him. "She didn't become CCO on your recommendation alone. And it wasn't just what she did during the battle. You think you're hot shit for getting out of the Academy in three years? She could have done it in two and a half if she hadn't been so damned determined to learn _everything_ we could teach her. Xenolinguistics hardly knew what to do with her. She came to us half trained, as it was. They _created_ courses just to keep up with her. Engineering would have been happy to take her. She got Enterprise because she was too good to go anywhere else, Jim, and if the Vulcans are saying they need her, Starfleet's gonna give her to them.

"The Federation is bending over backwards for them right now. I'd be a liar if I told you I thought you wouldn't be a shit to try to deny them this. It doesn't matter anyway, because if you say 'no,' they're gonna come to us. And the answer _will_ be 'yes,' Jim."

Kirk knew everything Pike had told him was true, and he hated it.

____________________

"I contacted Starfleet Command and they believe that it would be best that Lt. Uhura remain on the colony until the High Council decides she can be adequately replaced," Kirk told the dignified Vulcan staring at him from the console in his ready room. He made sure to use Pike's words exactly. He didn't want any confusion between him and Vulcan ambassador, although he feared the wording might grant the Council too much leeway. "You can tell her that, since this is now considered an official mission, the time she's already spent with you won't count against her leave. I'll tell her myself when I get a chance, but since you'll probably be speaking with her first anyway…." He let his words trail off.

You are doing the right thing, he told himself.

"Thank you for making your decision so quickly, Captain," Sarek told him. "We are also grateful for your intervention with Starfleet. I am sure Lt. Uhura will be gratified to know that her efforts will be officially acknowledged."

Kirk didn't bother hiding his displeasure.

"You can expect to receive confirmation of her new orders from Starfleet Command within the next seventy-two hours," he said coldly. "You make sure you take care of her, ambassador. We'd like her back when this is all wrapped up."

He couldn't define the curious expression Sarek allowed him to see.

"Indeed, Captain," the Vulcan said, inclining his head. "We are fully aware of the lieutenant's value."

Unable to suppress a frown, Kirk made the appropriate good-byes to the ambassador.

As soon as the screen went blank, he dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

He knew he had made the right decision, the logical decision, even, but he didn't believe for a nanosecond that that knowledge would make telling his first officer any easier.

This was what was best of the Vulcan people, he reminded himself. It was also what was best for Uhura right now.

He hoped that would be enough.

* * *

Uhura stood before the mirror, the reddish morning light painting her clothes and skin. Since her first week on the colony without the Enterprise crew, she'd taken to wearing variations on Vulcan-style clothing. She found the hip-length shirts that crossed over in the front and were secured at the waist surprisingly flattering to her physique. The typical lightweight trousers were loose enough not to restrict movement and to encourage increased airflow against her human skin, but remained practical and unobtrusive as she went about her day-to-day work.

Today, however, she had donned the much more formal ceremonial robes for her meeting with the High Council. Though the colors were more muted than she would have chosen for a formal occasion had she been on Earth or attending an event as a representative of Starfleet, she found the ochre under-dress and long hooded vest in shades fading from russet to sepia to copper pleasing. Bronze embroidery, depicting the words for "communication," "clarity" and "unity" in Vulcan script, ran down the front closures of the vest in vertical lines.

Long, intricately-shaped red gold earrings were her sole concession to the Nyota Uhura she had been accustomed to seeing in the mirror since her sister had first taught her the fine art of dressing well.

Her hair was another matter. Throughout her stay on the colony, she'd worn it in a series of practical variations on the ponytail. Today's clothes and today's meeting, called for something more elaborate. The Interim Sub-Minister of Planetary Communications would need to strike the correct balance between ornamental beauty and logical elegance during her induction ceremony. That she was human only served to underscore the importance of getting it right.

But any idea of what would be most fitting escaped her. Dropping her hands, she ceased trying to assemble an appropriately complex upswept style.

She watched as Spock's mirror image moved towards her from across her sleeping chamber, his dark eyes wistful. When his hands, pale and etched with lines of age came to rest on her shoulders, she leaned back into his chest. He bent his head to hers.

"She often dressed so when our presence was required before esteemed company," he murmured against her ear. Looking up, his eyes suddenly alight, he smiled. "On many occasions, I watched her dress her hair. Never the same way twice, because she liked to create as she worked. Perhaps it took more time, but the result was always more than pleasing. To tell the truth, I always found watching the process most pleasing of all."

Uhura laughed softly and felt the frustration that had been building seep out of her shoulders.

"I never much bothered on my own," she admitted. "It's funny if you think about it. Whenever we went anywhere that required fancy hair, Mama took Upenda and me to the hair salon. The three of us would make a day of it. Girl time. At the Academy, Gaila was genius stylist."

Spock's smile faltered a little.

"Perhaps losing her mother when she was much younger than you are now is what led to her learning what you have not yet mastered," he surmised, his expression thoughtful and almost sad. "Fortunately, I had many decades to watch and learn and sometimes, she allowed me to assist her. If you will allow it, I will be your Gaila today."

He left her to retrieve a high stool from the kitchen. He had her sit in front of the mirror and then took the comb and brush from her hands, leaving her holding a cloth sack filled with dozens of dark brown hairpins.

Spock stood behind her, still and silent, before beginning. His fingertips brushed against her cheeks and her temples as used them to comb her long hair back from her face.

And when he used comb and brush and hands, sliding through her hair, parting, twisting and pinning, it felt nothing like the times her former roommate had played hair stylist.

* * *

Spock sat in his captain's quarters after Alpha shift. For the past month, he'd managed to avoid sharing meals in the mess and relaxing in the rec rooms, thereby avoiding encountering the pity and wrath of his crewmates when he was off duty. Just the atmosphere on the bridge had been enough to drive him to triple his time spent at meditation.

He could not, however, refuse Jim's fifth invitation in eight days to play multi-level chess. The next invitation, Spock had known from the firm set of Jim's jaw, would be an order.

"It's done," Kirk told him, moving a pawn up a level. "It was out of my hands, probably from the moment I talked to Pike. Command will do just about anything for them right now. I should have thought of that, I know. The thing is... it might be the best thing for her right now."

Spock did not look at his captain. He did not wish to see the anger mixed with defiance he could hear so clearly in Jim's voice. He did not think he could bear to see the accusation he knew would be there as well. Spock knew he was not the only one who had suffered because of Nyota's absence, but he was the only one everyone blamed for driving her away.

"Two additional months is not such a long time, captain" he said, still not looking in the other man's direction. He decided an attempt at humor was in order. "I am certain the bridge crew can tolerate Lt. Saunders's presence until she returns." He ignored the topic of what was "best" for her altogether.

Kirk made a strangled sound and Spock found his eyes flying over to the man in spite of his resolve not to look.

"Spock," Jim said. His eyes and voice held nothing like anger or accusation. Instead, all Spock could detect was a sadness and… pity. "Command changed her orders to 'indefinite.' They've got her as long as they want her."

The commander moved a bishop, unable to trust himself to speak.

* * *

Uhura stood at center of the dais, members of the High Council flanking her. She was the most sedately attired of the group.

Forty-seven Vulcan faces stared from the audience as Sarek listed her credentials and accomplishments during his introduction. Her future students listened attentively.

She had not expected the audience. It explained why Spock and Sarek had insisted on the formal robes. At first she'd suspected they'd wanted her dressed this way because not all of the Council had been convinced of her suitability, in spite of her qualifications. She'd thought she was meant to appease their sense of decorum.

Now she knew better.

Then Sarek was calling her to podium to speak. She had not expected this either. While prepared to face the Council as they formally offered her the position, she hadn't prepared a speech.

Words were her specialty, she reminded herself as she glided across the stage towards the ambassador. There was no applause. This was a Vulcan meeting, after all. She used the walk to compose herself and erase all vestiges of expression from her face and posture.

She stopped next to Sarek and he relinquished the lectern to her.

"_Council Members and students,_" she intoned in High Vulcan. "_I greet you. It is an honor to have been chosen to take the lead as this new journey begins._"

* * *

Spock wasn't sure how he'd found his way back to his own quarters. He'd forced himself to remain in the captain's quarters and to soundly trounce the younger man in the fastest match they'd ever played.

Jim had been distracted; Spock had channeled pain and fear and anger into a need to conquer. He'd been relentless in his pursuit of the win and had played with none of his habitual careful consideration or finesse.

In the end, he suspected, Jim had lost on purpose. He hadn't tried to bring up Uhura or her stay on the colony after Spock had gone silent. Perhaps the quick game, the vicious kill, was his gift to his first officer.

It had not been enough.

He needed to see her face.

* * *

Uhura glanced at the man who sat by her side.

"That went better than it could have," she said. "I guess I should thank you and Sarek for insisting on the glad rags."

A ghost of a smile flickered on Spock's lips.

"You had not anticipated addressing your students so soon," he said. It was not a question.

She smiled.

"Well, _no_. Not exactly," she admitted. "I thought that I needed to impress the Council. I figured not everyone was so ready to welcome me."

He took her hand in his and squeezed.

"Your performance was admirable," he assured her. "If any were skeptical about your ability to thrive in this role, I believe you were able to remove their reservations. YOur students will be well prepared by the time your uncle arrives."

Uhura tilted her head to the side.

"But they won't exactly need to be prepared, will they?" she asked. "I'm here for as long as you need me now. Official orders and all that."

Spock squeezed her hand again before bringing it to his lips and gently kissing her fingers.

"Do you regret it, Nyota?"

Nearly a full minute went by as she considered her answer. She'd wanted Enterprise for as long as she'd known the great starship existed. She had spent most of her life working towards being the best communications officer Starfleet had to offer. And while this posting wasn't what she'd had in mind all those years, it wasn't exactly straying from her goals, either. No matter what Sarek wanted to happen, the Council wouldn't have asked for her if she hadn't been the best person for the job.

"No," she said firmly. It was true, she realized; she regretted neither coming here, nor choosing to stay. "Since I came here, I've been so—"

The comm sounded the incoming message request chime, interrupting her.

Spock released her hand, stood and walked over to the desk holding his console.

"Receive," he ordered, activating the device.

"Ambassador Spock," she heard her former lover say, "I wish to speak with Lt. Uhura. Is she available?"

______________________

Spock waited as his older self beckoned behind him.

"Nyota," he heard him say, "it is for you." The old man turned back to the console screen. "I will leave you to speak privately," he said, and walked away.

Uhura came into view of the screen and Spock gasped.

She was dressed in simple shades of brown that should have competed with her skin, but instead made it glow in a way he had only seen when she had lain in his arms after their lovemaking. The flowing robes caressed her body in such a way as Terran attire never had. Her dark hair was pinned against her head in a series of swirling figure-eights that highlighted the length of her slender neck.

For long moments, he was silent, drinking in the sight he'd denied himself for the past two and a half months.

"Your beauty steals my breath, _k'hat'n'dlawa_," he whispered once he'd regained control of his lung function.

She flinched. He knew it was in reaction to the endearment – one he usually did not use. It had been what she called him, he reflected, though she tended to use the simplified "k'diwa." He had always used Standard's more common "beloved."

"My apologies, Nyota," he said quickly. "I did not expect to see you dressed in the formal clothing of my father's people. I was… caught off guard."

She sat at the desk, and he inhaled another sharp breath as he was afforded an even closer view of her loveliness. Without his permission, his hand reached out as if to touch her face. Realizing the futility, the illogic of the action, he let it drop back to his side.

"I was officially elevated to my post today. Spock and your father insisted I make the appropriate impression," she said waving a hand around herself to indicate her clothes and hair. "I-I had to make a speech. They never told me I was going to have to do that. In front of all my new students, no less!"

Spock found himself smiling at her words. In this moment, in spite of the clothes and the hair, she was as he remembered her. Sweet, funny, teasing. His love swelled inside of him. The ache of missing her eased even as he wished she were with him in his quarters on the Enterprise.

"Are you pleased, Nyota?" he asked, because, watching her, he couldn't believe she didn't miss him as much as he missed her. "Will you enjoy your time teaching Vulcans? You were quite good at teaching _one_ Vulcan, as I recall."

She smiled at the suggestion in his words, and Spock wondered how his heart managed to keep beating.

"When you come back—" he began, but she cut him off.

"Stop it!" she whispered fiercely, the warmth of her smile suddenly gone. "Don't talk to me about the future as if we have one."

Her eyes were like cold fire and her arms wrapped around her shoulders as if they were all that were holding her together.

Immediately, he was aware of his mistake.

"Nyota," he began, only to be ruthlessly cut off once more.

"I mean it Spock!" she cried, though her voice was quiet. "Don't act like you still want me in your life. Don't talk about what will happen when I go back, _if_ I go back."

He felt the numbing cold invade his body again. His vision became unfocused until he forced the tide of emotion back.

"Nyota, please!" he begged, doing nothing to hide his desperation. "Please! Never, never believe that I do not want you in my life."

Her whispered denials slammed into his ears like phaser fire.

"I said stop it! I don't want to hear you."

But he would not let her cut him off this time.

"I will _always_ want you, Nyota," he declared, not caring — for now — that his emotions were there for anyone to see. He moved until his face was nearly touching the screen, his hands grasping the sides of the console. "_I have not functioned optimally since you left my side. My work suffers. I cannot focus or properly meditate and I worry the captain and the doctor._" Unconsciously, he'd slipped into speaking his native tongue.

"_It is only my duty to my people,_ half of my heart and soul_, that tears me away from your side_," he told her. "_Only ten-thousand Vulcans escaped the planet, Nyota. There are fewer than thirty-thousand of us left. What would you have me do? Turn my back on them so that I may satisfy our desires and our needs? There is no logic in choosing the happiness of two over the futures of so many_."

His breath was coming in heavy pants by the time he finished. Uhura had long since gone quiet.

"I am sorry, Nyota," he said in Standard, his voice barely more than the whispers she used to plea for him to stop. "Vulcan love does not fade so easily. I cannot pretend you don't yet hold my heart, or that that will ever change."

Neither spoke for a long time after that. Both sat, their noses nearly against their screens and stared into unblinking into the other's eyes.

Finally, Uhura broke the silence.

"Why did you call today, Spock?" she asked. Her voice was flat, as if pain and anger were both beyond her strength now.

He answered honestly.

"Jim waited until tonight to tell me," he said. "I felt… broken. I needed to see your face."

He watched her face close down.

"You're willing to do your 'duty' for a people who never believed you were good enough for them until there were so few of them left that they felt they had _no choice_ but to ask for what you have. But you've turned your back on people who have valued you from the start. You're walking away from someone who loved you for all that you are and all that you aren't. Where the hell is the logic in _that_, Spock?" She stared at the screen before her, her eyes no longer blazing with anger.

"You're like a boy on the outside, begging the popular people to like you. Just remember this, Spock, they'll take everything you have to give — they might even thank you for it — but don't believe they'll ever really accept you," she continued, her voice quiet now. "Not the way the people on that ship have. Not the way I did."

Uhura stood, arms still folded across her chest, her posture still rigid. But otherwise, she appeared nearly as devoid of feeling as any Vulcan woman trained her whole life to appear.

"I am sorry for you Spock," she said quietly. "I am sorry for the pain and loss you have chosen, because your sacrifice will not grant you what you seek."

The screen went blank and he surrendered to the cold.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm going to apologize right off the bat: Emotional scenes exhaust me, and I've been reworking this one for days. I will certainly revisit it in the near future, but if it doesn't ring true, it because I lacked the _conjones_ to read it one more time.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.


	9. What Is Decided

Uhura removed her earrings first. She succeeded in sliding the delicate gold wires from the tiny holes before her hands began to trembling. Replacing them in her earring case was beyond her as the shaking spread swiftly throughout her body.

She was gasping back sobs by the time she shrugged out of her long Vulcan vest and fumbled at her side for the ties that held the under-dress closed. Wearing only a sleeveless lightweight shirt and matching pants, she forced herself to hang the formal clothing properly.

Out of habit, she padded barefoot over to her bathing chamber. Fervently regretting that the Vulcan colony lacked sufficient resources to make water showers anything less than criminal, she stripped and stepped into the sonic cleanser. Its sound would not cover her sobs, she knew; no hot spray would thaw the cold ache in her body and wash away her tears.

She cried them anyway.

* * *

After spending uncounted minutes — perception of his internal clock escaped him — clutching the blank view screen, Spock forced himself to stand. The cold made movement difficult, but not impossible.

He exchanged his uniform for robes and lit his firepot.

Meditation would be long and deep tonight.

* * *

He was standing by her bed, his back to her, when she emerged from her shower, already clad in a brief cotton sleep shirt.

"I guess you heard all of that," she murmured, knowing that he would hear her now.

"I have prepared a soothing beverage." He did not turn around when he spoke.

She crossed the room to stand behind him and peered over his shoulder into the steaming mug sitting on her bedside table. A sweet and spicy fragrance wafted up on tendrils of vapor.

"What is it?" She touched his back and he turned.

"This was a favorite of hers," he told her. Indicating she should sit in a chair facing the bed, he picked up the mug and placed it in her hands. "She told me a cousin introduced the drink to her. Ana Wakufunzi spent part of her childhood living in Mexico and said that it had been a traditional drink there since ancient times."

Uhura brought the cup up to her face and breathed in the scent of chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla and… chili pepper? She took a tentative sip of the frothy mixture. The rich taste of cocoa danced along her tongue amid streaks of fiery chili, savory cinnamon and mellow vanilla. She found the taste along, soothing.

"It's good." She offered him a weak smile, but took another, larger sip. "I don't have a cousin Ana, though."

For a moment, Spock looked pained.

"No," he said. "I don't suppose you do. She was the daughter of your uncle and Estella Libertad."

Uhura dropped her eyes, as a trickle of sadness touched her already battered mind. Estella Libertad had died on the Kelvin before she could marry Uncle Tabansi. Of course she didn't have a cousin Ana.

"Oh," she said. She looked up to find him staring at her with sad eyes. "Were we close?"

"Very," he told her. "They were near one another in age, and spent a lot of time together after M'Umbha Uhura was killed."

She could feel his sense of guilt emanating from him, although they were not touching.

"It's not your fault, you know," she said, referring to the cousin who had never been born. "None of this was your fault. Besides, Mama didn't die in this universe. Perhaps this Ana and I wouldn't even have liked each other."

Spock's eyes fell from hers.

"Perhaps not," he said.

______________________

They watched the moon rise again. She sat on the sofa, curled into his arms as he stroked her loose hair.

"I will help make this right, Nyota," he promised. "You will not feel this pain forever."

"I don't believe in fate, Spock," she said, just barely holding back the tears. "I know there's no such thing as fairy tales."

She pulled out of his arms and shifted in her seat so that she was facing him.

"You keep saying human resiliency — our ability to adapt and bounce back — is one of the greatest parts of our nature," she said bitterly. "If that's true, why does it still hurt so much? When do I get to bounce?"

He didn't make her wait for his answer.

"I cannot say. Everyone experiences grief differently and everyone recovers according to her own schedule," he said. "It is still my belief that, ultimately, you will not need to 'bounce.'"

She shook her head slowly, not facing him once she was done.

"And what if you're wrong?" she asked the moon.

Spock wanted to tell her he was not wrong, that he could not be wrong, but knew that would not be truthful. He placed a finger under her chin and gently turned her face back to his.

"If I am wrong, Nyota, I will do everything within my power to help ease you through this," he said, his second promise of the night. His dark, intense eyes never wavered from hers.

Uhura reached and cupped his cheek against her palm.

"Everything, Spock?" she asked.

His only answer was to gather her back into his arms.

_____________________

Spock lay awake, listening the deep even breathing of the woman who lay curled against him. They hadn't discussed the fact that most nights she slept in his bed. There was a need, he conceded, but he knew banishing her from the place that gave her so much comfort when she felt most vulnerable would do little, if anything, to quell the desire which flared between them with increasing frequency.

Her cheek was cool through the fabric of his sleep shirt, and lost in the sensation, he stroked her hair. When her sleeping hand caressed his chest, the resulting flicker of arousal convinced his to change his focus.

He was neither a monk, nor a Christian saint. He had no intention of spending his remaining years practicing celibacy. His promise to take a mate was a testament to that. But this Nyota Uhura was proving to be more of a temptation than he had anticipated. Commander Spock had proven to be more stubbornly determined, even more unbending, than he recalled himself to have been at that age.

Sighing, Spock grasped Uhura's exploring hand and moved it to her side. He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of her head, and then pulled her slumbering body closer to his.

He would need to work harder, he realized. Take a more active role. He might even require assistance.

Sarek would be pleased no matter which of his sons she chose, and so could not be counted on to provide sufficient help.

Perhaps Jim Kirk was the right choice? This Jim was still young — only twenty-seven — but he'd experienced more of life's difficulties than his counterpart had seen at that age.

Spock dismissed the idea. A starship captain had enough on his plate.

Then he realized who he needed to speak with.

The young Leonard McCoy had seemed even more predisposed to argue and grumble with his younger self than Spock's own Bones had been with him. He smiled at the thought.

Convincing the young doctor would be a challenge, but he was certain her would be successful.

And that the friendship between the first officer and chief medical officer would be cemented in the process.

* * *

Uhura woke alone in Spock's bed before sunrise. She went back to her own room to shower and prepare for her first day of teaching. Neither she, nor the High Council, had wanted to waste any more time.

He was meditating when she walked into the sitting room. Softly scented smoke drifted into the air from his firepot. She was about to leave the room when he spoke.

"I have already prepared breakfast," he said from his seat on the floor. "There is fruit and plomeek soup waiting for you in the kitchen. I will join you shortly."

Turning without answering, she retreated to the kitchen to wait.

______________________________

Over their morning meal, they discussed her plans for the day.

"Most of them have engineering backgrounds, so the hardest parts are out of the way," she told him. "I'll just have to ease them into working with different types of systems than they're accustomed to. Actually, three are communications engineers, so that should be even more of a help. I've already given them the schematics Scotty and I came up with. We're going to go over them before the others arrive."

Spock smiled at her over his soup. She appeared to be genuinely excited about her new position. Not traces of the afternoon before ravaged her face.

"You seem to have things well in hand, Nyota," he said. "I will walk with you as far as my offices. I, too, have an important project to commence today."

She didn't bother to question the mischievous look twinkling in his human eye. He would tell her if he wanted to.

I hope, she thought, I can survive whatever he has planned.

* * *

**A/N:** Nothing to do with _this_ chapter, but just wanted to encourage anyone who has never had a partner or non-parental loved one attempt to style one's hair to give it a go. It can be an incredibly bonding experience. The results don't have to be stellar; it's the time spent together, touching in such a way, that matters.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.


	10. Then

Three weeks later, Spock was packed and ready to leave her.

She didn't know where he was going; he'd only told her that he would be testing a new Vulcan/Terran-made space craft – larger than a shuttle, but small than the smallest class star ships currently available. He'd been chosen as a beta-tester because the design had been largely his own.

She suspected he had also been chosen because the High Council still deemed him somewhat more expendable than other Vulcans.

"If I have not returned by the end of your mission, I encourage you to reconsider my father's invitation," he suggested, taking her hand, as had become their custom. "I am not sure how long I will be away and do not like the idea of you being alone in my absence."

From her perch beside him on the sofa, she settled herself for what she was sure would be a serious conversation.

She didn't have to wait long to discover she had guessed correctly.

"I would also like to you to consider something else," he said gravely. "You should not cut yourself off from so many who care about you in an effort to avoid further contact with one person.

"You have found solace here, in your work, in my company and in that of my father. The time will come, however, when you will need and want more. And although your uncle will be joining you in just over one month, I believe it would be best that you try to maintain, or reestablish, the friendships you made during your time at the Academy and on the Enterprise.

"I include Commander Spock in those numbers, Nyota.

"Circumstance had led him to acknowledge the human element of his psyche at a much earlier age than I did. In that way, he has some advantage over me," Spock told her. "However, perhaps because he lacked the many decades I had to come to a similar point, he has not yet come to embrace, or even accept, that side of himself. He continues to struggle, Nyota."

_________________

He waited as she absorbed what he had said. Her shoulders did not slump, but he saw that she was not holding herself as tensely as before.

"Do not excise him from your life completely," he advised. "You were his friend long before you were his lover. There will be times when you will need that friend as much as he needs you.

"I _do_ understand the difficulty inherent to what I am asking of you. I can only assure that I believe the benefits, in the end, will outweigh the pain of this time. You will both be better off for the strength you have shown, and continue to show, Nyota."

Only then did he stand and pick up his small bag. After another long assessing gaze, he turned and began walking away.

Her footsteps sounded behind him before he reached the doorway. He felt her hand slide into his and halted, turned to her.

Staring up at him, her eyes earnest and a little sad, she said, "Thank you, Spock."

Then she stepped close and pressed a hand to his chest. As she rose to her toes, the hand slid up to caress his neck before coming to rest on his right cheek. Before he could deduce a prediction regarding her intentions, she pressed her lips against his.

Without thought, he returned the kiss. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. His mouth opened, deepening what had started out as little more than a chaste brushing of lips. He allowed his tongue to explore hers and when he felt the faint bite down, he shuddered at the resulting familiar sensation. His Nyota often employed such tactics to inflame him before his departures.

His Nyota.

The thought of his t'hai'la, and the knowledge that the woman in his arms was, and yet was not, the same, brought him back to the present. He pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against hers. He made no move to release her from his embrace.

"Do not give up on him yet, Nyota," he murmured, his voice still rough with passion.

He snatched one more brief taste of her lips before releasing her and continuing on his way.

* * *

Nine hours later, she established a connection with the Enterprise and requested a conversation with Commander Spock.

Her request accepted, she was put through to his quarters.

The room, as had often been the case, was darkened.

He still wore his uniform shirt, although by now it was deep into ship's night. Each glossy black hair was perfectly in place. The posture was elegantly straight without being rigid. That face, so coolly composed, was more familiar than the face that stared back from her mirror every day. And yet, everything seemed… different.

This Spock held no trace of the barely held back emotional explosion she'd observed nearly a month ago. These dark eyes, though watching her intently, betrayed no sense of his love for her.

_I cannot pretend you don't yet hold my heart, or that that will ever change_, he had said.

Part of her was grateful for the effort he made on her behalf. A larger part of her felt bereft in the absence of obvious affection.

Her eyes traveled down to the lean, muscular torso covered in close-fitting blue. Memory washed over threatened to take over. Her fingers recalled the feel of the hot skin beneath that shirt.

"Lt. Uhura, is there a reason why you have contacted me tonight?" he asked.

Startled, as much by his use of her title as she was to realize she'd been staring at him, unspeaking, for what likely amounted to several minutes, she couldn't remember what she's intended to say.

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she gave up with a sigh. Her eyes fell to her feet. Her fingers tangled around one another.

"Nyota," Spock said, his voice warmer now. She looked up to see his eyes had softened, as well. "Why did you wish to speak with me?"

"I — I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay," she lied. "Since… everything. Because… last time, you said you weren't functioning and I — ." _Damn it! What kind communications specialist couldn't get a simple sentence out without tripping over her thoughts and words?_ "I just wanted to — ."

"I am uninjured and am in full health," he interrupted brusquely. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"No!" She blew out a violent puff of breath. She was lying again, and it shamed her. "Gods, Spock. That's not why I needed to see you. I mean, I wanted to make sure you were okay, but I needed to see you because _I needed to see __you_." Silently, she begged him to understand. She didn't believe she had the strength to translate her words if he couldn't catch their meaning.

Spock's eyes never left her face, and she forced herself to meet his gaze, though she wanted nothing more than to bury her face in her arms. Her face burned, but she didn't look away.

"I miss you, too," he said after what felt like forever.

His eyes flicked away from her, to somewhere over her shoulder, she thought. "Are you traveling?" he asked.

The abrupt change of subject left her startled, again.

"Oh! Uh, yes! I am," she said, half-turning and waving a hand at a small dun-colored rucksack. "Some of my more experienced engineers and I are going scouting. We want to test some of the equipment we've fabricated and see if there are any other obstacles we might need to overcome.

"The areas have already been officially surveyed, of course. And I have access to all of that data, but… ."

Realizing she'd provided far more information than he'd asked for, she trailed off.

"But human genius often manifests itself in the face of tangible stimuli," he finished for her.

For the first time since the elder Spock had left early that morning, she smiled.

"Yes," she agreed. "Well, I didn't exactly put it that way, but yeah, that's what I told them. Some of them actually appeared… eager to go on this mission with me."

A familiar almost-smile touched his lips.

"Curiosity is one emotion Vulcans are not adverse to expressing," he explained. "It is likely that your students wish to see if genius will strike in their presence. It is also likely that they wish to see how well you will fare in the wilderness."

She grinned at that. And at the fact that she was having such a normal conversation with Spock. Suddenly she realized that she felt little of the strain that had existed between them since he'd announced his intentions. She was relaxed. She was very nearly… happy.

They chatted more about her trip and Spock offered to look over her gear and she chose not to be offended that he thought that might even be necessary.

"I've been living on the colony for _months_, Spock. I know how to pack for a camping trip," she said with a mock frown, but she pulled everything out of her pack anyway.

Upon receiving his approval, she offered him an amused "I told you so," and began repacking her bag.

"You are different now," he observed. "I did not know what to expect when I received word that you wished to speak with me. Though I am pleased with the nature of our conversation tonight, my Vulcan curiosity" the almost-smile flashed across his face "demands an answer: why tonight?"

She continued her repacking while considering her answer. There really wasn't any reason not to be honest with him. Not if she was determined to follow the elder Spock's advice.

"I'm lonely, Spock," she confessed with obvious reluctance. "With everything that been going on, I haven't had a chance to feel anything as simple as loneliness." She cracked an ironic grin. "It probably doesn't make sense that I'm feeling it now, when I'm up to my eyeballs in work."

_________________________

Spock was not certain what response was required of him. He knew that his elder counterpart had left the colony, and didn't wish to think about the connection between what Nyota was feeling and the older man's absence. Moreover, he'd experienced many of her moods, but this one foreign to him.

It had long been his custom, when unsure of how to reply, to remain silent until more information was offered. This was not a tactic he wished to use with her now. He did not want to give her any reason to end the communication, but he also did not wish risk allowing her to believe he was anything but supportive of her endeavors.

"In the past, you have not expressed a dissatisfaction with occasional solitude. I recall several instances when you actively sought it," he said. Though he asked no questions, his curiosity was evident.

"In the past, I was surrounded by friends," she explained. "Things are different, here. I feel it a bit more. That's all."

Most would not have been able to read his face as concern briefly flooded his eyes. Uhura was not most people..

"I understand your commitment to the duties you have undertaken, Nyota," he said. "However, if lack of close companionship is having such a detrimental effect on your ability to function, perhaps a short leave, merely for the duration of Ambassador Spock's undertaking, is in order."

"It's fine, really," she said, sighing. Today, his words didn't feel like a knife in her side. She could accept his worry without the rush of anger and loss and frustration that had so affected her before. "Your father has been very kind to me. My students and colleagues have been surprisingly accepting. But, he's my only real friend here."

Spock tilted his head. Comprehension dawned.

"You care for him. Deeply," he observed.

Something in his voice made Uhura stare at him intently.

"Of course I care for him," she told him at length, her voice somehow at once both matter-of-fact and gentle. "He is Spock. How could I not?"

Spock was silent for a moment. He did not trust himself to speak as Nyota's confirmation — revelation burrowed through his mind, making relevant connections, seeking its place in his knowledge of the universe.

In the end, all he said was, "Please be safe, Nyota."

* * *

**A/N:** Serious computer injury has meant this chapter was entirely reworked from memory. Hopefully, this is better than what I originally wrote, but if data retrieval is successful and I find that this is _not_ in fact better, I will post that version elsewhere.

Unfortunately, this is only about an eighth, story-wise, of what I originally wrote. So, the entire fic is going to be grossly expanded. However, in the interest of preserving everyone's sanity, I'll try to keep what was formerly Chapter 10 down to three or four chapters.

Usual disclaimer: I don't own the characters, most of the chapter titles are songs or song lyrics I also don't own, etc., etc.


	11. And Then

Spock settled back into the command chair. So far, everything was working as he'd anticipated, but he knew several more months of analysis would be required before he could hand the Uhz-Palikaya over to a second tester. For now, the small ship was performing well. No more diagnostics would be needed before he met up with the Enterprise in thirty-two point six five hours. There was time to contemplate his next moves.

He would need to speak with Leonard McCoy as soon possible after he reached the larger starship. It would not be easy to convince the doctor to intervene, but he was convinced the man's assistance would prove invaluable.

Since he was alone, Spock allowed himself a small sigh. Nyota's kiss this morning had been a surprise. His response had been almost astonishing. For just a few moments, he'd been lost in her embrace, reliving the passion he'd so often experienced with his own Nyota. The knowledge that he had nearly succumbed to illusion was unsettling.

Vulcan control could only be expected to go so far. It seemed the control of a half-Vulcan who had long ago embraced his human half might be more tenuous than he'd believed.

It was time to bring his younger counterpart to heel.

Spock wasn't at all certain he could make himself walk away from another kiss from this timeline's Lt. Nyota Uhura.

* * *

As evening approached a mid-sized hovercraft landed at the edge of a small oasis. Ten figures quietly exited and stepped into the path of the last of sun's fiery rays.

The distant red hills resembled those of the destroyed planet. Much like many on Vulcan had done, the broad valley stretched out for several hundred kilometers on all sides. Most of the terrain consisted of reddish brown soil, with occasional bits of scrub grass and desert plants.

The small stand of tall tree-like plants with a thick ground cover of succulent plants did not resemble the destroyed planet in the least. A small pool of water at the grove's center further underscored the differences between the colony planet and Vulcan.

Uhura stood with her back to the pool as she addressed her nine companions. She was fairly certain it was unnecessary to go over the procedure for completing the survey once again; Vulcans, as a rule had phenomenal memories. Her students had been briefed both as the plan had come together and before they'd left colony's main city just four hours earlier.

"We will divide into our respective groups here. As discussed, T'Dun and I will remain on-call while assessing the central sector. Please do not hesitate to contact us if you encounter any problems, or if you come across any particularly interesting information not included in the initial survey reports," she told her students. She'd chosen this group as much for their professional acumen as for the fact that they'd been the most likely to understand what constituted "interesting" to her. "I am looking forward to receiving the reports from all of your sectors. Dismissed until next week."

She stood, turning in a circle, and watched as the four pairs ranged out from the grove and headed towards the hills that surrounded them. In spite of the approaching twilight, all eight remained visible until they were nearly a kilometer away on the flat plain of the valley.

Once the groups were no longer in sight, she crouched down and removed a set of weights from beneath each of her trouser legs. Quickly, she stripped more from around her shoulders. Finally, she pulled up her tunic and pulled a twenty-pound belt from around her waist. She walked back over to the hovercraft and tossed the weights inside before grabbing her rucksack and waving the driver off. The colony did not have so many vehicles on hand that this one wouldn't be missed during Uhura's two-week mission.

Now that she was free of the nearly thirty extra kilos, she turned to her teammate for the next couple of weeks.

"I hope I will slow you down too much, T'Dun," she said. After nearly six months, she'd become accustomed to the higher gravity of the colony planet, and had rarely gone without wearing weights during that time. Since the confirmation of this trip, she'd carried around the extra sixty-six pounds even while she slept and was in the shower. Still, physically, she was no match for the Vulcan woman. "I should be faster now that I am not wearing my weights, but I still will need more rest than you will require, and as the mission continues, I am unsure of how rapidly I will lose any benefit I have gained from the conditioning."

Her companion's face was unreadable. Over the past three weeks, Uhura felt she'd made the closest connection with this young scientist who specialized in geological and atmospheric studies, but who had considerable engineering experience, as well. Out of all her students, she found T'Dun the easiest to read. That and the woman's open, but benevolent, curiosity regarding humans and human behavior, was why they were partnered. Either T'Dun truly wasn't fazed at the prospect of serving with her human teacher, or she'd gotten a lot better at hiding her reactions from the sharp-eyed communications specialist.

From her rucksack, she unearthed the small tri-corder T'Dun had calibrated specially to perform fine geological analysis. The other woman began taking atmospheric readings. Uhura hoped the group's research would give them insight into why previous attempts at establishing a planet-wide communications network had met resistance in these wide valleys that covered do much of the planet's surface.

"I believe I have already assured you that I am not adverse to this assignment, Savensu," she told her. "Indeed, many of our group would likely have welcomed the opportunity to see how you fair in the field. We were not aware of the extra measures you had taken to condition your body to the planet's gravity. Undoubtedly some will be very surprised by your performance."

Uhura reminded herself that her other students probably hadn't been counting on her collapsing in the wilderness out of malice; they simply didn't expect a human woman to be able to handle the physical stresses. Never mind that, anticipating just such stressed, she'd assigned herself the area closest to the tiny oasis.

She just barely suppressed a smile. T'Dun's words were as close to a compliment as she'd heard from anyone besides Spock and Sarek. She knew there was a reason why she liked this woman.

"That may be the case," she replied, "but no amount of conditioning will allow me to compete with a healthy Vulcan woman."

"And yet you chose two Vulcan mates," she said, pausing atmospheric scan.

"I chose one half-Vulcan mate," Uhura corrected, carefully editing an instinctive censure from her tone. "He chose his duty to your people. Ambassador Spock has also pledged to devote the rest of his life to the rebuilding. You must know that his choice makes me ineligible as a potential mate."

T'Dun studied Uhura's impassive face.

"I am not certain that I agree with that assessment, Savensu Uhura," she said. "It is said that since your arrival, Sarek has been heard on several occasions telling the rest of the High Council that 'Vulcan is gone; Vulcans must learn to change.' There are many who believe that it is his association with you that has caused him to adopt that belief. It would not be unreasonable to construe that as a sign that he approves of you as a potential mate for either of his sons."

Uhura closed her eyes to focus on her response. She liked this woman, and didn't want to give offense with her answer. But she also didn't want to continue the conversation along this vein.

"However Ambassador Sarek may feel about my suitability as a mate for Spock does not change the fact that, as I am human, any children I produce would be unlikely to further the Vulcan race," she said at last. "In that way, I remain ineligible."

T'Dun nodded in acknowledgment, if not agreement, and both women resumed their scanning.

* * *

The bridge of the Enterprise was quiet mid-morning, ship's time. Of late, this was not unusual. When Saunders informed Captain James Tiberius Kirk that a ship of unknown class, but which bore Federation registration, was hailing them, most of the bridge crew perked up. Everyone, save, perhaps, Lt. Saunders and Commander Spock, had been looking forward to the rendezvous with Ambassador Spock.

Kirk sighed in relief before ordering Saunders to answer the hail. Maybe Spock would be able to fix his increasingly distant first officer.

_______________________

Spock's second stop on the Enterprise, once he'd extricated himself from Jim Kirk's side — not an easy task. as the young captain had been eager both for news of Lt. Uhura and to catch up with his "old friend" — was Sickbay. He let good memories wash over him as he strode through the medical facility. He'd spent a lot time here during his time on the Enterprise, though not always because he had been in need of treatment.

In the early years, he'd barely tolerated time spent in the presence of Leonard McCoy; by the time he'd been forced to transfer his katra into the grumpy curmudgeon, he'd considered the man to be one of his closest friends. He sincerely hoped what he was about to ask of him today would not prevent the same friendship from developing between this McCoy and the younger Spock.

"Leonard," he said, stepping into the doctor's private office, "I need your help."

_______________________

McCoy propped his elbows on his desk and dropped his chin into his cupped palms. He aimed a darkly amused grin at the older man sitting across from him. Something told him having Spock beholden to him was something he would enjoy for a long time coming.

"Now, just what exactly is it I can do to help you?"

"I have no children, and so I feel ill-equipped to offer an argument on the many facets of fatherhood," Spock explained. "As you have managed to maintain a relationship with Joanna, despite rarely being in physical proximity with her, I cannot help but feel the counsel of a parent, as well as a doctor, would carry more weight than any I might be able to offer."

McCoy's grin morphed into a feral scowl.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he muttered, reaching automatically for the drawer at his knee. He stopped himself with a groan. There was no way he was going to let the old Vulcan drive him to drink before noon. "I'm not going to make him think being an absentee father is a walk in the park. The uptight bastard may piss me of like nobody's business, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna lie to him. Not about something like this. If you did have a kid of your own, then maybe you'd understand. Since you don't, you can kiss my human ass."

"Leonard, I would not ask this of you if I did not believe that you are the one most likely to ensure a positive outcome," Spock assured him. "In my time, the very negativity you with which you habitually imbue your tactics was often the impetus required to set me on the correct path. It is my hope that, should you prove successful in advising the younger Spock, there will be no need at all for him to suffer the pain of being separated from his children."

McCoy scowled at the talk man before him.

"What makes you think I want to use my 'negativity' to do your self-imposed job for you?" he asked. "And what makes you think you know what 'the correct path' is for these two?"

Spock didn't try to hide his exasperation. In his experience, Bones was far more amenable when he believed he had gotten the better of Spock. Any sacrifice to his dignity, he reflected, would be made worthwhile if it meant winning the doctor to his side. He rolled his eyes and released a heavy sigh.

"Leonard, do you honestly believe this separation has been good for either Spock or for Lt. Uhura?" he asked. "I am asking for your medical opinion and for an informed psychological assessment. Set your personal feelings towards the commander aside and tell me what you think is best for both of them."

McCoy folded his arms across his chest. It was as much an attempt at looking defiant as it was an attempt at keeping his hands off the bottle in his desk drawer. He hated the idea of admitting that Spock — either Spock — might be right. But if he had to agree with one of them, he much preferred it to be this one. At least this one seemed almost _human_ at times.

"If I put my personal feelings aside, you can be damned sure I wouldn't be agreeing to this," he growled. He unfolded his arms and reached for the drawer after all. "Lucky for you" he grabbed the bottle without taking his eyes off Spock's "I love that girl, and she'd happier when she's with him. I can't understand it, but I can see it." He sloshed a couple of fingers of bourbon into the lowball he kept on his desk. "You need me to talk to him about making a 'donation,' I'll do it. Just don't expect me to lie to him." He took a long swallow. "And I'm not doin' it unless I have a hypo strong enough to knock him on his ass for a day or two behind my back when I do."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **Another short one, folks. There's still reams and reams of what was once Chapter 10 to get through, but I seriously think this way is better. This needs some tweaking to the Uhura/T'Dun scene, as well as to the Am. Spock/McCoy scene (small details, only) -- and I'll do that early tomorrow, put I wanted to get this posted before I go home for the night.

New machine should arrive mid-September. No word on the data retrieval, though.

To _**happy**_: You find this fic "hilarious"? Sorry to hear that because that probably means you're not getting the message I was trying to convey; not feeling the tone I'd hoped I'd imbued. This is the one and only story in the collection that I've made 0 attempt to inject humor.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.


	12. Then Again

Jim Kirk arrived more than twenty minutes late for his dinner with Ambassador Spock. Thankfully, the two had the officers' mess to themselves. There would be no one else present to add to his distraction. He was preoccupied enough not to come up with a snarky come back to the older man's too-casual "I am most appreciative to see your efforts towards achieving punctuality so greatly improved."

"Sorry, Spock," was his offhand apology. His mind was on other matters. He had, as Bones might say, other fish to fry. "We just received orders to pick up a delegation from Starbase 5 and to take them to the Vulcan colony," he said, casting a speculative look at his friend. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?"

Spock quirked his right eyebrow and cocked his head to the side.

"A delegation, Jim?" he asked, his voice smothered in false innocence. "I was told nothing about that. However, I _was_ originally directed to travel to Starbase 5 in order to retrieve our new Minister of Communications. I was informed even before I left Vulcan Beta that my services would no longer be necessary and that I might complete my analysis of the Uzh-Palikaya as I saw fit. I was not given a reason for the change."

Kirk stroked his jaw as he ruminated over everything the ambassador had said. What he _hadn't_ said was probably more important this time. And Jim noticed that Spock hadn't exactly answered his question. He also knew, both from experience and from what he'd learned of the relationship this Spock had shared with another Jim Kirk, that pushing the Vulcan wouldn't achieve favorable results.

"Vulcan Beta, huh?" He changed the subject instead. "That's what you're calling the colony? It's official? I guess it's about time. After what, almost two years?"

He didn't believe for a nanosecond that his dinner companion was taken in by his tactics, but he was interested in the new topic, anyway.

"In the twenty-three point seven months that have passed since we began the colonization, the High Council has not yet decided on an official name," Spock told him, "but it seems likely that this will be the planet's informal Federation designation. I believe it is already referred to as such in many circles."

Kirk nodded and began serving himself from the platters at the center of the table.

"Well, what do you think the _Vulcan_ name might be?" he asked. He offered Spock a crooked grin. "Don't tell me you don't have an opinion."

Spock gave one of his almost-smiles in return.

"Several names have been considered," he conceded. "My opinion is irrelevant, as I am not a member of the High Council. However, I am fond of 'T'Khasi-run'."

Brow furrowed, Kirk sought to alleviate his ignorance. "Which means Vulcan's… ?"

Spock began filling his own plate.

"It can be translated as 'Dream of Vulcan,'" said Spock. "A most sentimental and inaccurate appellation that would most likely be ignored even if I did submit it for consideration.

"My father favors _tam'a t' Ah'rak_: Spirit of Vulcan," he continued. "It is equal to my choice in sentiment, but perhaps more precise in language. The Council has suggested that Sarek's preference was influenced by his association with my mother. I doubt that name will fare any better than the one I favor.

"The most likely candidates are _t'Ah'rak Vokay_ and _T'Khasi Vokaya_. Both mean 'Memory of Vulcan' and far more logical choices."

Jim took a bite and chewed slowly, his mind not on his food, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance. Sometimes he had a hard reconciling the idea that this poetic man was what his first officer could become in a hundred-something years. He swallowed and glanced at his friend.

"What do you think about going to Starbase 5 to pick up this delegation with us?" he asked. "Mr. Sulu is dying to get his hands on the Uzh-Palikaya. Let him be your second tester and we can hang out on the way back to T'Khasi-run."

Spock stared back at him for a moment before his lips curved up in what Kirk could only think of as a secretive smile.

"Jim, I would be honored to accompany you," he said. "I am eager to make certain that Tabansi Wakufunzi is comfortable during his time on the Enterprise.

___________________

After their meal, the two men walked the corridors, catching up and discussing plans for the nine days the delegation would be aboard the Enterprise. When neither had anything left to talk about, Kirk was loath to end his evening with the man who, despite knowing him less than three years, he considered one of his closest friends.

"How about a game of chess," he suggested. "I've been practicing with Spock — other Spock, that is — for the last four months and I think I might actually be able to give you a decent game this time."

This was met with the familiar slight curving of lips and brightened eyes that he'd come to know as Spock version of a huge grin.

"That would be agreeable, Jim," his companion said. "If you do not mind suffering yet another humiliating defeat, I would be happy to offer you one with gentler hands than your first officer has likely delivered your recent losses."

Kirk laughed heartily and slapped the older man on the back.

"C'mon. We'll play in my quarters, so at least I'll be embarrassed in private!"

The two headed for the nearest turbolift and made their way to the captain's quarters.

Three minutes later, they stood outside Kirk's door.

____________________________

As predicted, the game was not going well for the young captain.

Spock heard the approaching footsteps long before the door chimed.

"Come," Kirk ordered upon ascertaining Commander Spock stood outside. He grinned at the ambassador. "Looks like my comeuppance won't be so private, after all."

The door whooshed open and Spock entered. He stopped short upon observing Kirk's opponent.

"My apologies, Captain," he said, his dark eyes trained on Kirk. "I was unaware you were entertaining a guess." He turned slightly to meet the other Spock's gaze. "Greetings, Ambassador. I regret that I was unavailable to meet with you before now. I hope that your tests of the Uzh-Palikaya go well."

His older counterpart stood and smiled slightly.

"Apologies are unnecessary, Spock," he said. "I remember well the duties of serving as both first officer and chief science officer. I took no offense at your absence." His tone said he knew duty had little to do with why he hadn't seen the younger man before now.

Commander Spock gave him a short nod before turning back to his captain.

"Sir, I wished to let you know the final reports on the mapping we were able to complete before our reassignment are complete. With your permission, I will send them on to Starfleet Command." At Kirk's nod, he continued, "I also wished to discuss the delegation's accommodations. We will arrive at Starbase 5 in three point seven days as maximum warp. It would be best to ensure that everything is in order before they board."

Kirk grinned and moved to slap Spock on the back, but dropped his hand when he saw the young half-Vulcan stiffen slightly.

"Right," he said, with a minute frown. "Don't worry about it Spock. Spock and I" he chuckled at his unintended word play "already sorted everything out. I'll make sure the orders go out in the morning."

"Then it would seem my presence here is superfluous," Commander Spock noted. "I will leave you to your game." With another curt nod at both men, he turned to take his leave.

Ambassador Spock moved quickly to block his exit.

"Spock wait," he said. To most human ears, his tone was flat. The man he was touching heard the plea in his voice. "It was not my intention to usurp your duties in any way. I will leave so that you may discuss the details of Commander Wakufunzi's stay with Jim."

The old man did not move towards the door right away.

"If you are not adverse, there are several aspects of the Uzh-Palikaya's performance that I would like to go over with you. Perhaps you will be available later tonight?"

Young Spock studied him closely before nodding his acquiescence.

"I will be in my quarters in three quarters of an hour," he said.

Ambassador Spock briefly placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder before walking out the door.

Until he was finished going over ship's business with Jim Kirk, Commander Spock forced himself to suppress the images and emotions that exploded into his mind through that brief touch.

* * *

Uhura frowned at the readout and bit her lip. It wasn't unusual for planet-side scans to differ minutely from the ones performed from a starship, and the differences she was seeing now fell within the normal parameters. Still, something wasn't right. She couldn't pinpoint what it was. Nothing present in the geological make-up of the area should have caused equipment failure — indeed, she'd received regular call-ins from T'Dun and members of the other teams every two hours. But… Something. Wasn't. Quite. Right.

The tricorder bleeped and the readout returned to normal. Not just within normal parameters of variation — now everything aligned exactly with the data from the earlier surveys. _Exactly_.

Which should be impossible, considering Ambassador Spock's scans had been conducted from aboard a ship and were twenty-five Terran months old. The ground surveys she was referencing had followed Spock's work by less than six weeks.

How was it possible that nothing had changed in two years? She felt a prickle of unease. It wasn't possible. The colony planet had weather, after all. Winds and rain had to have shifted the pulverized red porphyry beneath her feet. Surely the chemical composition of the stone should show some divergence from past readings.

They'd chosen this time for the survey because a vicious storm, born in the argillite hills to the north, had been predicted to blow itself out two days before. Surely something had come from those mountains. But she found not even the tiniest trace the aluminum-rich rock.

_Odd_, she conceded. _But not _impossible.

But her sensitive ears picked up a faint high-pitched hum. The sounds seemed to originate just behind her and to her left, so swung around and adjusted the tricorder to see if she could get a reading despite T'Dun's adaptations.

She lifted her eyes from the instrument, whose readout hadn't changed, opting instead for a visual scan of her surroundings.

And all thoughts of rocks flew out her head.

* * *

Spock shifted his eyes from the tall figure standing just inside his quarters, suddenly wishing he had not invited him to his most private place. He tried to sort through the mass of emotions churning inside him, but could not. His center was out of his reach.

The sight of Nyota's smile, the sound of Nyota's laughter, the feel of her soft skin, of her breath on his cheek, her lips on his, her lithe body beneath his had all been present in the ambassador's touch earlier.

Latching on to the only feeling he felt he could hold, he lashed out.

"She does not love you!" he bit out, all of his fears, frustration and sorrow converging to bleed anger into his words.

"She loves Spock," his elder self pointed out, never dropping his aura of dignified serenity. "I have been Spock longer than you can properly imagine."

Commander Spock felt calm spread throughout his mind as he wrapped himself in the reassuring blanket of logic once more. He seized the opportunity to present an argument based in reason.

"Yes, and you are old enough to be her many-times-over grandfather," he accused. "Do you believe she looks at your withered body, your graying hair and wrinkled skin and feels desire? Do you think she does not think of me when you are lying in her arms?"

He stopped just short of giving in to derisive laughter.

"You know that is not her way, Spock," the ambassador said quietly. His face was somber now. "You insult the woman you claim to love when you speak of her in such a manner. Her love stems from what is inside. It does not die because the body that houses the spirit has become infirm."

Spock was chagrined. His older counterpart spoke true. He was shamed by his words, but felt unable to retract them.

"She is a passionate woman," he argued, knowing he was grasping at straws. "Physical desires may not rule her, but hers continue to exist and are yet strong. Fulfilling them will still be the duty of her mate."

The man standing before Spock had resumed his habitually tranquil expression, but even so the young Starfleet officer thought he detected a note of smugness in the man's face.

"My body is still strong enough to perform my duties quite thoroughly," Ambassador Spock informed him. "She has had no reason to complain."

Something snapped inside the younger Spock. He saw the world fade to gray and then turn a hazy green. His body moved out of concert with his mind, which was left suffused in his fog of anger and pain and jealousy.

The old man was on the floor beneath him, his neck in Spock's hands, before the younger man even knew he had planned the attack.

He is still strong; his body is not yet _infirm_, he found himself thinking, as his elder self resisted his death grip, raking a hand down his face with enough force to draw emerald blood, though the fingernails were blunt.

The thought, more than the counter-attack, brought new heat to the fire, blazing through any remnants of reason he could still cling to.

He lifted his right hand from the ambassador's throat and curled it into a fist.

The blow should have ended everything. The old man's katra should have been released to find its own way to Surak's arch.

Instead, it never landed.

His fist was captured in a titanium-strong grip. To his horrified surprise, the elderly Vulcan tore Spock's other hand from his neck.

Fear welled in his belly and he felt his rage begin to slip. He would not have thought this possible.

He could feel, through the odd link that came whenever the two men touched — no matter how strongly each shielded himself — the other Spock's growing anger.

Then physical pain replaced the fear in his middle and he was flying through the air.

When he slammed against the wall across the chamber, the force of it knocked the air from his chest. White light exploded before his eyes when his head snapped back to connect with the same wall.

Everything went dark.

* * *

**A/N:** Ouch! Two cliffhangers in one chapter. (I hate cliffhangers!) It really wasn't my intention, but my continuing computer troubles are kind of forcing the issue. (They'll be kicking me out of the office soon.)

I mean to update tomorrow, even if it turns out to be only a couple of paragraphs long.

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.


	13. And Then Again

Uhura stilled as the luminescent mist drifted towards her. The hum which had first grabbed her attention seemed to vibrate faster at her interest. She wanted to run away from whatever it was that approached, but instinct told her any attempt at escape would be futile.

Her heart raced as a tendril separated itself from the mass of shining haze and reached for her. A cool peace enveloped her as it began to wrap around her body, touching her everywhere. Within the peace she perceived

_curiosity_

_recognition_

_surprise_

_pleasure_

_satisfaction_

The finger of mist unwound and retreated back into the main cloud. Uhura released the breath she'd been holding, as the presence began to dissipate and the hum faded.

Then running footsteps sounded from behind her. She spun around to see T'Dun approaching in the early morning light.

"Savensu," the Vulcan woman called, " are you unharmed?"

Uhura wondered that herself.

"I believe I am," she told her student when T'Dun came to a stop before her.

* * *

Forty minutes after leaving Jim Kirk, Spock made his way to the first officer's quarters. He was disturbed by the accidental thought and emotion transference which had happened earlier. Meditation had not brought relief or reassurance.

Although he had shielded himself before touching the young half-Vulcan, it had not been enough. Perhaps their sameness rendered such measures ineffective.

No matter the cause, he knew the younger Spock had been far more disturbed by the contact, and he wished he had taken the time to explain what the man had seen.

He reached the young officer's corridor when the first images of heated exchange flashed behind his eyes. Breaking into a run, startling the handful of crew members in the hall, he reached Spock's door in seconds.

A tightening in his throat left him gasping for breath for several long moments.

Then, pain exploded through his middle and was quickly followed by a rush of force onto his back and in his head.

Briefly, the world went dark.

Then he was back in himself, standing in front of Commander Spock's quarters.

He did not announce, but immediately punched in the code that had been his during his own tenure on his own Enterprise. He expected it to work and was not surprised when the door slid open.

Nor was he surprised to find a young Spock on the floor of his quarters, sprawled before the firepot and unconscious.

* * *

Tabansi Wakufunzi's arrival on the Enterprise was without fanfare. He and his party of three assistant instructors, two yeomen and a junior communications engineer were taken to their quarters immediately. Wakufunzi was informed that the ship's first officer had suffered an injury, and would not be able to meet with him right away.

It was just as well. He was not sure he would have been able to hold back his anger towards the man who had broken his niece's heart.

His surprise was not inconsiderable, then, when he was summoned to the first officer's quarters on his second night aboard the ship.

But the whooshed open to reveal an elderly Vulcan whom Wakufunzi immediately recognized as the man who had prevented his Nyota from losing her sanity when she had been at her lowest point.

Over an evening to talk and tea, he discovered he liked this man, this Spock — who would not leave his young companion's side, as much for the man himself as he liked him for having been Nyota's savior.

He was amazed that this man and the one who had hurt his niece were supposedly one and the same.

* * *

Spock was in the dark when he came to. Not all-encompassing black that had taken him earlier, but the more familiar dim glow of his quarters sans a direct light-source met him when he opened his eyes.

He was not, as he might have expected to be, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Cool sheets were a barrier between his hot skin and the firm mattress of his bunk, as well as the air all around him.

Exactly as he might have expected, he was not alone.

"You are awake." The deep voice spoke quietly, tonelessly. "We were concerned."

Spock sat up in bed, noticing, as he did so, the lack of pain in his body. He reached up to stroke his cheek. It was roughened along his jaw line by a thick growth of stubble, but was otherwise smooth.

Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath and reached for his center. The swirling confusion of his mind must not become a maelstrom, he knew. Everything he knew himself to be depended on finding control. To his relief and no small amount of surprise, it was there, just within reach.

He fell into himself, for the first time in months easily entering the meditative state that had been his comfort, his link to sanity for nearly as long as he could remember. Inside, he began sifting through the emotions that had plagued him since Uhura's desertion — no, since Uhura's banishment; since she had felt forced to flee the pain he had caused her. Since she had sought sanctuary with…

Filing the thought away for later, he let himself sink more deeply into his mind. There was… an anchor, he realized, a presence helping him find the peace of the meditative trance, guiding him without leading him, holding him — the lightest of touches, there to keep him from falling away. It felt very much like the role his father had played for him when he was child, just learning to meditate.

He continued his journey back to himself and to logic. His emotions slid into place and he could sense his ability to control them again solidify.

"What happened to me?" he asked, when at last he could speak.

"Lights, twenty percent," the elder Spock said instead of answering.

Spock opened his eyes, then blinked at what seemed to him to be a bright glare filling the room.

"The past four days have been disconcerting," his older self told him. "Even the Vulcan body is susceptible to exhaustion, mental, emotional and physical. You have not been taking care of yourself."

"What happened?" Spock asked again. "I thought I… ." He could not continue. What he had done — whatever it was — had left him with a deep sense of shame. It was unspeakable. It was not the Vulcan way.

The ambassador rose from his chair across the bedroom. His face was composed, but the concern in his grave eyes unhidden, as he carried a lightweight robe — a match for the one he wore, himeself — towards Spock.

"I know what you believe occurred between us," he said. "I could see it in your mind as you thought it was happening. Please, Spock, be at ease. You have done nothing to be ashamed of."

Spock flinched when the older man paused a meter from his side and knelt, facing the him.

"I will not touch you without permission," his elder self assured him, placing the robe on the bed.

"What happened to me?" Spock asked for a third time. "You say I did nothing shameful and yet twice you have refused to tell what I have done. I do not require your protection." In a quieter voice he added, "I do not want or deserve your forgiveness."

His companion frowned at his words, looked down at the floor before him. The expression was gone when he looked up again.

"You did nothing, Spock," he said. "Your anger and your… hurt were… overwhelming. Without sleep or meditation, you were incapable of continuing to control your reactions. A part of you wished to attack the source of your pain; your mind sought to give you relief by making you believe in the attack."

Spock stared back at the old man. The dark eyes, so like his own, were weighted with sorrow. The wrinkled hands hung limply at his sides.

"I am to blame for pushing you so far," he continued. "What you believed happened is _my_ shame, Spock. Not yours. I failed you when you should have been able to count on my support."

Spock glanced away. He still felt disgraced, no matter what his older self claimed. He had found no solace in the other man's words.

"You are saying I… hallucinated a fight with you." Although he didn't make it a question, his curiosity was evident. He looked at the old man, who once again had his gaze trained on the floor. "I am going insane."

Ambassador Spock's head snapped up and his back stiffened.

"You were coping in the only way you had left," he said. The conviction in his voice left no room for argument.

"Then I am becoming V'tosh ka'tur," Spock argued anyway. He swung his legs off the bed, shrugged into the robe and slowly eased down to the floor to face himself. "How much of what I saw was real?"

The elder Spock's steady observation seemed to burn straight through him. But now, after his first successful mediation in several months, Spock felt able to withstand its intensity.

"Everything you perceived in Jim's quarters was true," the ambassador told him, "but none of it was as you perceived it to be."

Spock bristled at the remembered images of Nyota lying in this man's arms, deriving pleasure from his body. A lance of misery and of… guilt shot through him as he reflected on the love he had felt between them — a love apparently this man could give her; a love that Spock could not match. He pushed it all down, and forced himself to listen. Somehow, he was sure, the other Spock would know what he was thinking and feeling.

"I do not understand you, Spock," the younger man said. It was the first time he'd called his elder self by his name.

"The things you saw did not occur between your k'diwa and me," Ambassador Spock explained. "It was never my intention to show you what I shared with the Nyota Uhura who was, and is, my t'hai'la.

"But, I underestimated this link the two of us share. It seems our strongest shields are insufficient to prevent accidental mind touches.

"I wish to assure you, what I have seen through our link tells me you are _not_ V'tosh ka'tur, and you are not on that path. What we are dealing with is unprecedented in Vulcan or human history. It is only logical that both you and I would make several missteps as we adjust to our new circumstances."

Spock was quiet for several minutes while reflecting on what he'd just learned. Much of it would have to be studied more closely at a later date. For now, there were several things that required immediate clarification.

"I was… asleep for four days?" he asked.

"You were healing," the ambassador told him. "You must begin taking better care of yourself. You are needed."

Spock shook his head as if to clear it. It was somehow less… embarrassing, now, to allow himself such uncharacteristic mannerisms in the presence of this other Spock.

"What does the doctor — the captain — believe is wrong with me?"

He didn't have to describe what worried him. This other Spock understood.

"The captain knows only that you are ill," he said. "Bones gave you an initial examination right after I discovered you unconscious when I reached your quarters. As, beyond your physical exhaustion he could find nothing wrong with you, he turned your care over to me. He understood that this was a Vulcan matter best addressed between us. He is quite more amenable to compromise than my own Leonard McCoy was." He let his lips drift into a wistful upwards tilt. "He has checked on you once a day ever since. No doubt he will wish to perform a fuller assessment now that you are conscious."

The smile piqued Spock's already engaged curiosity about the other man, but other matters were more important to him at this moment.

"You cared for me during this time?"

Spock's smile morphed into a smirk.

"I watched over you these four days past," he admitted. "Little 'care' was needed until you awoke and attempted to meditate."

The young Spock nodded.

"For that, I thank you."

Spock's eyebrow quirked up.

"But for nothing else?"

Commander Spock could not resist the urge to roll his eyes, and to his surprise his expression of annoyance brought a broad grin to the ambassador's face. His new desire to know this man, whom he could have become had circumstances been different, doubled.

"Am— Spock, I – I believe there would be some benefit to us both if you were to share some of your life experiences with me." Again, he felt shame wash over him. Not as acute as what he felt when he'd believed had attacked the older man, but it was shame. He could not believe it was appropriate to ask, even of "himself," what he was asking of this other Spock.

"I concur," said the other Spock, not entirely to the younger man's surprise. "A mind meld will most likely aid in your complete recovery, and it might alleviate some of the affects of our accidental 'touches'."

Spock saw the logic in the first part of the ambassador's statement, but decided to reserve judgment on the rest.

"When shall we begin?" he asked.

___________________________

"My mind to your mind," they murmured in unison.

It was over in seconds. Knowledge, images, emotions transferred from one Spock to the other in an instant. The same _sameness_ that made shielding almost impossible, made the meld nearly effortless.

The younger man took only what he was offered and gave what he thought he needed to give.

They broke contact, and both continued to feel the other inside to himself. Of single accord, each raised his shields, newly adapted to their greater understanding of the other's mind. Each Spock became a separate man, once more.

The elder Spock reached out a hand and cupped the younger Spock's face.

Nothing happened.

The shields held.

The younger Spock copied his gesture.

"She is still inside you," he whispered.

"As your Nyota is in you," Spock replied.

* * *

**A/N:** That's the last of the original content of Chapter 10. Everything from here forward is brand new — written from the outline, rather than rewritten from memory and notes. Could mean updates will come less frequently and that chapters will be longer. Oh yeah! I'm choosing to ignore that TAS episode where Spock saves the life of little-boy Spock (much as I enjoyed it). So Am. Spock is entirely correct when he tells young Spock that this hasn't happened before in recorded history.

For anyone who is interested, I left a note on the reviews page, which kind of responded to some of your concerns. It felt too long to go in an author's note.

Usual disclaimer: I own squat.


	14. Why It Is This Way

The formal sitting room in Ambassador Sarek's official residence was far larger and more lavishly decorated than the one in Ambassador Spock's home. Uhura was grateful that her host usually chose to meet with her in his private study when only the two of them were present. The smaller room felt less imposing, and also, she believed, reflected the personality of this man she was coming to know so well.

Although she knew the idea was illogical, in the sitting room she always fancied she was conducting an official audience with Ambassador Sarek; in the study, she felt as if she could be chatting with the man who, had circumstances been different, would have been her children's grandfather.

But here, the privacy, the _intimacy_, of his study somehow made disagreeing with the man less uncomfortable.

"Sir, I believe it is imperative to the success our mission that we learn more about the entity," Uhura said. She was careful to maintain an even tone, but wasn't sure how much longer she could do so. Sarek's continued resistance was wearing thin. The argument had already taken up almost the entirety of their interactions since she and her group of students had returned from the field the evening before. "We need to know what it _is_, and we must find out if it is what caused the previous attempts to complete the network to fail."

"I do not disagree with you about the importance of determining what, if any, part this thing you encountered plays in the difficulties we have had with establishing the communications network," the Vulcan Elder explained patiently. "However, I fail to see the wisdom in sending you back out there to conduct the investigation. It would be illogical to put you at risk in such a way. _Your skills_ are too important to the success of our mission for us to allow anything untoward to happen to you."

She didn't give in to the desire to huff out her frustration and impatience. In spite of the ambiguity of her growing relationship with the man sitting before her, she still craved his approbation, though why she did so was not something she wished to explore just yet.

"Where is the logic in preventing the one person you know to have had any experience at all with the entity — a person whose presence the being, or beings, found acceptable — from attempting to contact it, or them, once more?" she countered, holding herself back with what felt like the last of her will. She breathed deeply in an effort to gather together the wisps of her tattered emotions. "Sir," she began again, "I mean no offense to you, but I believe you may be allowing your personal regard for me temper your reason." It was, she knew, a grave insult to suggest a Vulcan was letting emotion cloud his logic. Almost instantly, she regretted her choice of words.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but stopped at Sarek's upheld hand.

"You no doubt meant to apologize, Nyota," he told her, his voice sounding almost… kind. "That is unnecessary because you were correct in your assessment, if not in your reasoning. Tell me, ko-fu, is it not logical to wish to protect those who one believes to be essential to the continued health and happiness of one's closest associates?"

Uhura felt all the fight drain out of her. It hadn't been working anyway.

"Sa-mehk, it _knew_ me. Somehow it recognized me." It came out as a plea for understanding. She knew this, but had reached a point where she no longer cared. She was unaware that she'd slipped into using the intimate familial address she'd resisted until that moment. "Please understand; I think it _must_ be me."

Sarek looked away from her, his eyes settling on the painting of Amanda Grayson. She didn't know what to make of the un-Vulcan-like action; she had become accustomed to his direct gaze.

"Very well," he said after a lengthy pause. "When the Council convenes tomorrow, if you will agree not to work outside certain parameters we will establish in hopes of safeguarding you as best we can, I will recommend that we allow you to seek out the entity."

A light of hope lit itself inside her. She held its flame steady, didn't let it grow.

"What parameters, sir?" she asked evenly. There would be no sense in getting excited if she found their limitations unacceptable.

Much like his sons were wont to do, Sarek appeared to understand what she was thinking.

"I do not believe you will find our requirements untenable or unreasonably restrictive," he assured her. "First, you discuss the situation with your uncle before you return to the field. It is only right, according to human custom, that you explain the circumstances to him yourself. He will wish to know why you are taking this risk, and, as you alone understand why you feel… compelled to do this yourself, it is best that you are the one who tells him.

"Second, you will not attempt to make contact while you are alone. There must be at least three others within reach of you during this attempt. Two should be healers; I would prefer the third to be me or one of my sons. However, if you have become sufficiently acquainted with someone else during your time here, you may ask him or her to join you. It matters only that it be someone — a Vulcan someone — with whom you have some… emotional ties."

Uhura was unable to suppress a visible demonstration of her surprise at his last statement. Her eyes widened, her brows jumped and her head snapped up. She swallowed and moistened her lips. Reaching into herself, she quickly ordered her thoughts. An immediate, but well stated, response was needed.

"Sir, I will gladly agree to the first condition," she said. "You are correct in your understanding of the expectations of humans who share close relationships. I will send a transmission to Uncle Tabansi today.

"I feel unable, at this time, to agree to your second condition. Spock and Spock are not present and cannot give their consent to participating in the investigation. You are a member of the High Council and therefore cannot be put into a situation which might prove dangerous to your well-being. You three are all that exists of my Vulcan… family; I have no emotional ties of any kind with anyone I have met while I have lived here."

She saw that he had been expecting her response. His face wasn't as easy for her to read as either of the Spocks, but she knew she was right about this.

Sarek waved a dismissive hand.

"I am no more important than any other Vulcan at this time," he said. His voice was firm, unyielding. "Our planet is gone, ko-fu. The old ways must evolve into something new in order for the Vulcan race to survive and thrive. To achieve that goal, we must learn to trust in many of our non-Vulcan allies. Of that number, you may have more invested in our success than others. My support of you serves the interest of the Vulcan people."

She noticed he did not acknowledge her inclusion of him and his sons as members of her "family." Apparently, she decided, he accepted it as simply truth.

* * *

Lt. Commander Wakufunzi was pleased to be nearing the end of his stay on the Enterprise. It was not that he had been unhappy during his stay; quite the opposite was true. The close-knit senior crew had proven to be everything his niece had told him they were. That they loved Nyota was clear from the fact that they had welcomed him into their inner circle simply because he happened to be her favorite uncle.

It had been interesting to take on a few bridge shifts as communications officer. Working on a starship — outside his specialty — was enjoyable, even during a fairly hum drum escort mission. He got a chance to see something of what his niece's everyday life had been like for nearly two years. Experiencing it was far different than reading or hearing about in her frequent transmission bundles.

He had also liked meeting her friends. Not just her colleagues; these people were her friends.

"I was expecting you to be wearing a cape or something," Leonard McCoy had told him as he moved forward to shake his hand. "The way Uhura goes on about Uncle Tabansi says this and Uncle Tabansi does it that way, we all thought you must have super powers!"

Wakufunzi had laughed.

"I am sure Nyota was not quite so fulsome with her praise," he protested. "All _I_ have heard almost since her very first week at the Academy was 'Uncle Tabansi, I have just broken your record in this thing or the other thing. Did you know that no one has beaten your scores in the past twenty-five years?'"

The doctor had proposed a toast to that, and Wakufunzi had accepted, although it was still early afternoon, ship's time.

Jim Kirk was young and sometimes impetuous, but had a good head for command. He was genuinely invested in the welfare of his crew, though the lieutenant commander suspected his true love was his ship. No matter. He was confident that as the young man grew into himself and his abilities, he would provide Nyota with a good, strong leader. The Wakufunzi women were not good at taking orders from weaklings.

He suspected that Hiraku Sulu might be harboring a little crush on his niece — the man had requested endless stories of her childhood, which Wakufunzi had been only too happy to supply. The young helmsman had an engaging personality who shared an interest in botany with Nyota's father. Sulu might have been a good choice for her had she not already lost her heart to the ship's first officer.

That first officer was the reason he would be glad to leave the Enterprise.

Despite all the man had done to hurt his niece, Tabansi Wakufunzi found himself enjoying the man's company almost as much as he liked spending time with the older Spock. It had not taken long for him to realize why Nyota had been drawn to him. Whereas some might see only a cold, aloof and intractable officer who raised science and logic above all else in life, Wakufunzi recognized the determination, the curiosity and the need for precision that drove him. In those ways, he was very much like the woman who loved him.

Uhura's uncle really didn't want to like the man who had rejected that love.

* * *

Spock approached Lt. Uhura's uncle with some caution. His interactions with the man had not been unpleasant over the past few days, but their first meeting was always in the back of his mind.

______________________

At Ambassador Spock's insistence, he had gone to Sickbay after the two half-Vulcans had shared their somewhat odd healing meld. Although he had felt in better mental and emotional health than he had since Nyota had first decided to terminate their relationship, he knew it was only prudent to get an assessment of his physical well-being. He had not been caring for himself properly over the last six months.

McCoy had not been alone when Spock had chimed his office door. His desire for privacy had induced him to consult the doctor directly, rather than to seek out one of the CMO's subordinates. Seeing who the doctor was entertaining had led him to believe his decision was in error.

"Oh, so Sleeping Beauty has awakened at least," McCoy had taunted, standing up behind his desk. Spock would have suspected the doctor was inebriated, but could not detect the tell-tale odor of the bourbon the doctor favored. "What can we do you for, Princess?"

Spock's jaw clenched. The other half of the "we," a tall East African man who bore an undeniable resemblance to the Enterprise's chief communications officer, had remained seated, but had trained angry eyes on his niece's former lover.

"My apologies, Doctor," Spock had said as he began backing out of the room. "I was unaware that you had a guest. I will return at a time better suited for a private consultation."

"Nonsense!" McCoy's voice had boomed out around the little office. "Lt. Commander Wakufunzi won't mind, will ya Tabansi?" At the other man's head shake, he had continued. "You look like hell, Mr. Spock. Well, you've looked like hell for half a year, worse since you drove a certain lovely lady off this ship. But today, you look like a lower level of hell. Sit down."

Spock had stiffened.

"I find your words to be inappropriate, Doctor," he'd said, his voice coldly impassive. "As I have said, I will return at another time for a private consultation. I have reason to believe that my body is not currently functioning at optimal levels."

He had not known why he was revealing so much in the presence of a disinterested party. The words had felt unstoppable. Once they were out, it had been too late to draw them back in. He'd felt at a loss — for clear thought, for appropriate behavior, for finding the right words to exit gracefully. He had turned to leave.

"I said 'Sit! Down!'" McCoy had ordered. When Spock had turned back, he saw doctor's eyes were glittering as he indicated the seat next to Wakufunzi.

Without understanding why he did so, Spock had compiled.

"Perhaps, Leonard," Wakufunzi had said, speaking for the first time since the had whooshed open to admit the half-Vulcan, "it would be best that I left so that Mr. Spock can speak with you about how breaking my niece's heart has broken him."

Once again, Spock had not understood the compulsion that drove him. He hadn't tried to.

"No, sir," he'd found himself saying, though the other man held a rank to subordinate his, "I would not be adverse to your continued presence while I speak with Dr. McCoy. I believe you have some experience with… breaking."

______________________

"Lt. Commander Wakufunzi." Spock waited until the man turned his gaze from the clear-steel of the observation deck windows before speaking again. "I wished to express my gratitude for the way you have handled the circumstances under which we have met. You have treated me with a fairness and respect I am certain could not have come easily. Nyota holds you in the highest regard and it was my understanding that you feel similarly towards her."

Wakufunzi watched the half-Vulcan without speaking for several seconds. Then he sighed and nodded.

"It has not been easy," he admitted. "Two things, only, stopped me from giving in to a very human desire to rip you to shreds for what you did to her. Neither your Vulcan strength, nor your rank in Starfleet were one of those things.

"You may thank your human heart for saving you from explaining to my niece why self-defense demanded that you beat her uncle into a coma." He raised a quelling hand when Spock opened his mouth to protest the idea. "It was not particularly _Vulcan_ for you to seek me out and to say what you have said. So, yes, while I use the term metaphorically, your human heart — which, the first time I met you, I saw clearly loves our Nyota, even if it is at odds with you Vulcan brain — and her love for you were all that allowed me to stay my hands long enough to learn to almost like you."

* * *

**A/N:** Not much to say. Things should start moving along nicely again, now that I've got the new computers configured. Still no word on the data retrieval, though.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek characters, locations or equipment.


	15. If Only

"Ko-fu, there is something you should know," Sarek told her. Nearly thirty years of living with Amanda Grayson had taught him to be careful when delivering possibly distressing news to a human woman. "The Enterprise and the Uzh Palikaya will be entering orbit around this planet in seven standard hours. Your uncle will be here sooner than you had been expecting him."

"You knew this was going to happen," Uhura said, carefully keeping her vice free of the anger and wonder fighting to swamp her senses.

Sarek saw them anyway, but remained unrepentant.

"Before you left for your survey, the Council decided it was imperative to be able to continue with the creation of the network if you were injured during your mission. To achieve that end, we agreed to petition Starfleet to arrange for your uncle's party to arrive here sooner than the originals plans would have allowed," he said. "While it was not purely coincidence that at the time we made the request, the Enterprise was in the most optimal position to reach Tabansi Wakufunzi, had Starfleet refused us, Spock would have retrieved Minister Wakufunzi with the Uzh Palikaya and his subordinates would have continued their journey as expected.

"However, as they will all be arriving today, and as you remain uninjured, our contingency plans are a moot point. In answer to the other question you are undoubtedly contemplating, we did not tell you of our plans before you left because we had not yet received an acceptance from Starfleet. Moreover, as I have far more experience in dealing with human women, I was able to convince the rest of the Council that passing the information on to you might cause you undue stress and therefore compromise your mission."

She wasn't sure what to say. She said the first thing that came to mind, too shocked to hold on to the Vulcan-like reserve she'd been cultivating for the past six months.

"You lied," she whispered. "You lied to the rest of the Council to get them to do what you wanted."

Sarek raised an eyebrow in a show of expression that inevitably reminded her of Spock.

"I did not lie," he said. "Tell me, ko-fu, had you known that both Spocks would soon be on the colony, would you have been able to focus on your duties and keep yourself safe while in the wilderness? Had you known that we had made preparations to carry on in the event of your injury or death, would you have been able to concentrate on your mission?"

"I am a trained Starfleet officer, sir," she said, her voice awash in indignation. "Serving on a starship means facing the possibility of my own death every day, and doing so knowing the world must carry on even after I am gone. It is only to be expected that the Council would have a back-up plan."

The Vulcan ambassador gave a single nod of acknowledgment before carrying on. "I concede that informing you of our plans concerning your uncle may not have had an ill-effect on your ability to complete the survey. I based my conclusions on my experiences with Spock's mother and did not take your officer training into proper consideration.

"Still, you have not answered my first question. Can you tell me, honestly, my daughter, that knowing that you would see my son again so soon would not have had a negative effect on your concentrate on the mission?"

She'd spent too much time among Vulcans to lie. Her own nature wasn't inclined to prevarication, anyway. Her gaze fell to her lap.

"No, sa-mehk," she said. "I cannot tell you that."

* * *

Spock remained on the observation deck long after Wakufunzi had left to see to his packing. He watched the cosmos as the Enterprise streaked by, all the time moving closer to the planet where he planned to spend the rest of his life as soon as the ship's first mission was complete. Closer to where Nyota was.

He didn't turn when he heard footsteps marking out the cadence of Leonard McCoy's determined gate. Even the man's walk sounded cranky, he thought, then dismissed the idea as illogical.

"Spock, do you know why Joanna's mother left me?" The doctor's voice bloomed into the silence.

The tall first officer turned away from the clear steel to face the doctor.

"No, Leonard," he said, "but I am certain you are about to rectify the omission."

McCoy grunted and moved forward into the room. He took a seat facing the view and eyed Spock until the other man did the same.

"She was in love with someone else." His words were so blunt he could have been talking about the life of a stranger. He motioned to a small table between their chairs where he'd placed a bottle and two low glasses. When Spock declined, he splashed a small measure of bourbon into one of the glasses. "She knew him long before she ever met me and knew she wanted to be with him. But he was sterile and she wanted children. I don't know what was wrong with him that medical technology couldn't fix his problem — in most cases we can, these days — but she never offered the details and by the time I found out the truth, it wasn't exactly high on my list of need-to-know."

Bones paused to sip his drink before continuing his story. Spock looked out at the stars rushing by.

"It would have been easier had she just asked me for a god-damned donation! Hell, I was so smitten, I probably woulda done it. But instead, I had to watch her give birth to our beautiful little girl. I had to see her look at me with what I thought was love in her eyes. And then, I had to watch it all fade away when she realized I wasn't enough to fill the space he left in her heart. I think she tried, Spock. I truly do, but love doesn't work that way and she wasn't smart enough to see that."

Spock's eyes remained on the view.

"My situation with Lt. Uhura is different from what you experienced with your wife, Leonard," he said quietly, firmly.

"Don't be same kind of stupid ass my ex was, Spock. That's all I'm sayin'."

* * *

Uhura stood outside, looking out into the night sky, imagining that she could see the two starships orbiting the planet. The darkened city gave her a clear view to indulge her fancy, even as she berated her illogical behavior.

I've been among them too long, she told herself. I'm starting to _think_ like them. Human companionship will be good for me.

Her joy at the anticipated reunion with her uncle was tempered by the knowledge that she would also be seeing Spock — both of his incarnations — likely in a matter of minutes. Tabansi and his subordinates, along with Jim Kirk and both Spocks would beam down tonight for a formal reception while the supplies would arrive via shuttle in the morning.

She supposed she should be happy. But the memory of the older Spock's kiss before leaving, as of the younger Spock's hot gaze devouring her face told her nothing would be easy about being in the presence of either again.

Footstep sounded on the stone street from somewhere behind her and she turned.

"It is time, ko-fu," Sarek told her. "They will arrive at the Hall of Welcome in twenty minutes. The Council is gathering to greet them."

Uhura straightened her stately Vulcan robes and turned once again. When Sarek began walking towards the Hall of Welcome, she fell in step beside him.

* * *

**A/N:** My deepest apologies for the delay. It would probaby would be a good idea to reread chapter 14 and then come back directly to read this one again

Disclaimer: They're not mine, even if the story is.


	16. Welcome Changes

The Hall of Welcome, the latest of the official buildings — completed less than five weeks earlier — that made up the government complex for the as-yet unnamed colony planet, glowed dark red in the light of the moon. There had been no equivalent on Vulcan; there had been no need for a center dedicated solely to housing and entertaining large numbers of official representatives of the Federation and its member-planets. As friends and allies continued to offer aid, however, it had become clear that Sarek's "Vulcans must change" attitude should be applied in this area if in no other.

Uhura hesitated at the foot of the broad expansive of stairs leading up to the massive stone building.

"You are… uneasy, ko-fu," Sarek said, undoubtedly noting that her straight back owed more to a rigidness borne of fear than to her customary good posture. "If you will not deem my asking too forward, perhaps you would like to share what has distressed you and tell me if there is anything I can do to mitigate your anxieties."

She considered how to phrase her fears for nearly a minute before she thought she was composed enough not to cause offense.

"I don't understand what you want from me," she said at last, switching to Standard. There was some comfort to be found in speaking the less formal language. "I can't figure out your motives. Sometimes it seems as if you're trying to protect me for the sake of protecting _me_; at others, I feel like you see me as this precious, fragile object that you have to save for the sake of your son. And I don't even know which of your sons I'm being saved for." She stopped there, unsure of how to articulate the rest of what was bothering her and hoping that the man beside her would continue to prove his almost human ability to read between the lines.

Sarek didn't break stride, and didn't turn to look her, but still she felt as if he was studying her closely.

"Your greatest value, in my estimation, lies in who you are," he told her in the same language. "I admit that this was not always the case. There was a time when I thought you to be little more than a usurper — the woman who had helped complete my son's separation from the life I had chosen for him. When Spock chose to end his bond to T'Pring, I blamed you. Although I now recognize my thoughts were illogical, then I did not see entering a relationship with you as a natural progression to the life he had chosen for himself. Even though I had married for love, I believed that in choosing you, Spock was rejecting Vulcan, rather than 'following his heart' as human would say.

"I do not know if Spock told you how strongly I disapproved of your relationship." At this he did turn to her, his raised eyebrow making his statement a question.. When she did not respond, he looked forward again and continued telling the story. "It was much the same as when he rejected his admission to the Vulcan Science Academy. Once I understood that he would not change his mind, I did not speak of it again. I did not speak to him. As before he told his mother and me that he wished to end the bond we had arranged for him I had not spoken to him since he left for Starfleet Academy, you may not have noticed that anything had changed. I know that you were in frequent contact with my wife, but she rarely shared your conversations with me. I was not… receptive to hearing news of the woman who had stolen my son."

With effort, Uhura bit back the observation that Vulcans were capable of extreme gaps in their logic. From Sarek's knowing look, she gathered he suspected the direction of her thoughts. She firmed her lips to keep from smiling. For reasons she didn't understand and wasn't ready to examine, she still liked this man, even as he admitted to having seen her in the most unflattering of lights.

"It was illogical, of course, for me to expect Spock to be more Vulcan in order to make up for my actions, my marriage, which many saw as not Vulcan enough. In our relationships with our son, this is perhaps the area where my wife and I differed the most: I wanted him to be something that he could not be ; she loved him for all that he was and all that he was not. I believe that you are like Amanda in that way.

"As I have come to know you, I have learned there are many ways in which you are similar to her. I loved those traits in her and I admire them in you. You hold value for me. I do not have a daughter of my own, but I like to believe that if I had, she would have been much like Amanda, and much like you.

"Even if you bond with neither of my sons, _ko-fu_, I ask that continue to allow me to cast you in that role."

She didn't know what to make of Sarek's unVulcan-like monologue, so she continued on in silence. But she let the back of her hand brush against his sleeve as they mounted the stairs to the Hall.

* * *

Spock stood by the control console in the main transporter room, waiting for the senior members of the landing party to arrive. There was no official reason for him to wait —taking him with them was a courtesy Jim Kirk had not had to offer. His role within Starfleet, within the Federation, was just as ambiguous as his role in the Vulcan High Council. Though they each depended on him in one way or another, he was a part of none. He stood on the outside. _Neither fish nor fowl_, he reflected.

Tabansi Wakufunzi was the first to arrive. The communications officer wore his dress uniform in deference to the small reception they would attend this evening. Spock suspected that the man, much like his niece, would have looked well in Vulcan-style clothing. He was tall — as tall as Spock himself, and had a Vulcan's regal bearing — but it was the expressive brown eyes which looked so much like another Starfleet officer's that made the ambassador view him in that light.

The half-Vulcan walked over to stand at the human's side.

"Tonight might prove difficult," he said without preamble. "It would only be right as her superior that you should require her to remain at your side during the reception, and as she has been on the colony for more than six months, it would make sense for you to seek her insights on the project ahead of you. However, I ask that stand by her as the uncle who loves her."

Wakufunzi studied Spock for a moment before speaking.

"Nyota has always been the strongest and the bravest of the Wakufunzis and the Uhuras," he pointed out.

Spock returned the other man's intent gaze.

"And yet tonight will perhaps test her strength and courage in ways that she has not faced before," he countered. "I would prefer to know that she has someone to lean on if the need arises."

Wakufunzi broke into a smile that was reminiscent of the one the woman they were discussing had once been known for.

"It never occurred to me to offer her anything less, Ambassador," he said.

_______________________________

Ambassador Spock and Lt. Commander Wakufunzi were speaking quietly when Spock entered the main transporter room. Nyota's uncle was smiling at the older man, his expression open and accepting. Spock felt a twinge of something very near regret and remorse. Even though the human man had claimed to "almost like" him, the Enterprise's first officer suspected Wakufunzi would never be as comfortable in his presence as he was in that of this other Spock.

The two immediately broke off speaking and greeted him.

"Good evening, sir. Ambassador," he nodded at the two men, but made no move to join them. His superior hearing would have allowed him to listen in on what they were saying — surely Ambassador Spock was aware of this and would have curtailed any conversation he was not meant to hear, anyway — but the respect he was coming to have for both men impelled him to give them at least the illusion of privacy.

When the communications officer gave him a considering and beckoned him.

"This is not the time to be shy, Mr. Spock," he said. "We were just talking about you."

Spock stiffened.

"Tabansi and I were actually discussing a matter of some delicacy, Spock," his older self explained. "As it concerns you as well, it is only right that you be aware of our conclusions."

_______________________________

James Tiberius Kirk walked into the main transporter room to find his first officer standing stiff-shouldered, flanked by Ambassador Spock and Uhura's dignified uncle. Both of the other two men wore grim expressions.

"I assure you both," Commander Spock told them, "it is not my intention to cause Lt. Uhura any further distress. I will do all within my power to prevent any unfortunate episodes from coming to pass."

Kirk let out a frustrated, though nearly inaudible sigh.

Leonard McCoy was not nearly so discreet in his own reaction.

"Damned straight, you will!" he bellowed. "'Bansi might hold the honor of being her only male relative in light years, but that won't stop me from sticking my foot up your ass if I see even a hint of a smidgeon of a tear in those gorgeous eyes because of anything you say. No offense, Tabansi."

Wakufunzi nodded genially at the doctor.

"None taken, Len," he said.

Ambassador Spock locked gazes with Kirk. Commander Spock studied the floor in front of his feet.

Kirk pulled on a mask of fake enthusiasm.

"Well," he said, "now that we've got all that settled, is everybody ready to go?" He didn't wait for any replies before taking his place at the forward-most transporter pad. As soon as everyone else was suitably assembled on the other pads, he glanced over to his chief engineer and mouthed _Save me_. "Mr. Scott, energize," he said aloud.

* * *

The interior of the Hall of Welcome was even more impressive than the outside. Uhura and Sarek had walked through a vast atrium of smooth coral-colored stone. Several empty kiosks, all built of a stone in slightly darker orange hues, were spread out along its depth and width. Large windows, set into the same curving wall as the main entrance were optimized to let in sunlight through out the day. The ceiling, made of planes of colored glass soaring twenty-one stories above them, let in bright patterns of moon- and starlight. Uhura looked down as they crossed the foyer to see the words of Surak and a representation of the _Kol-Ut-Shan _painted in shadow and light on the floor.

Her companion noticed her interest.

"We decided a subtle display of our most sacred philosophy was a suitable way to greet our guests," he remarked. "I believe the depiction of 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations' is especially fitting considering the location."

If he had been either Spock, she thought to herself, his words would have been accompanied by a ghost of a smile.

"I would hardly call this subtle," she said, spreading out a hand to encompass the floor before them and returning the smile that Sarek hadn't given. "I can only imagine what it looks like during the day."

Sarek nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps 'subtle' was a poor word choice," he acknowledged. "What I meant is that while we do not wish to bombard our guests with our beliefs, it is important that they have some understanding of the Vulcan way of life and of why we live as we do."

Uhura let what he said sink in. It seemed to be a major change in the way the proud, but very insular, Vulcans dealt with the outside world. Vulcans must change, indeed, she thought.

She squared her shoulders and took in a deep breath as he led her to a set intricately carved double doors and into the small reception hall beyond were the rest of the council was gathered.

_______________________________

Spock glanced up at the imposing rose-colored building as he and his companions materialized outside the new Hall of Welcome. He had seen the plans, of course, and Ambassador Spock had made available details of its construction to any of the Enterprise's senior crew who had expressed an interest. Being in the presence of the edifice that most concretely signaled such a major change in the Vulcan way was somehow more… stirring that simply contemplating the idea of it.

Jim Kirk, who Spock knew wasn't easily impressed by anything, stood at his side, gaping as the view. Spock could almost sympathize with the man. When they'd last visited the colony just four months previously, the space occupied by the Hall had been completely empty.

"Pointy-eared bastards work fast," McCoy observed with something akin to respect in his tone.

Spock turned to the doctor and inclined his head.

"It would seem so," he said quietly, his mind already on what — _who_ — awaited him inside.

Tabansi Wakufunzi and Ambassador Spock joined Bones at the foot of the stairs.

"My father was able to argue successfully that speed was necessary, and since many survivors had an expertise in architecture, it was also attainable," the elderly half-Vulcan commented to the group.

Kirk looked at the four men in his company. None looked terribly happy to be there, himself included he was willing to bet. None of them really had a choice.

"Well," he said, forcing himself into cheerleader-mode again, "I think they're in there waiting for us to get this party started."

Again, without waiting for any of the others to respond to his fake irreverence, he began climbing the long set of stairs.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, so things are heating up. Hope to post again in a day or three.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. (Except Uncle Tabansi, of course.)


	17. Shelter

Golden. The room was golden, Uhura thought. In truth, there wasn't much of the color in the room — aside from the words written in swirling Vulcan script on vertical banners hanging here and there around the room, there was none. But a golden light suffused the space, painting the cream-colored walls, the coral-colored floor and the twenty or so Vulcans who stood around waiting for their guests to arrive.

She was among a small group, discussing her encounter with the being. It wasn't the best way to begin what already sure to be a stressful evening, but she had little choice. The more she knew of the others' thoughts on the matter, the better prepared she would be when she asked the full Council for permission to continue studying the… whatever it had been.

Still, she would have preferred that they had not invited her student and field companion to contribute to the discussion. She'd tried to telegraph to T'Dun her desire to be judicious in supplying details. The other woman, while appearing to comprehend her teacher's wishes, did not seem to understand her reasoning.

Uhura returned her attention to the group.

"After Savensu Uhura failed to respond to my second communication, I realized that she might have been prevented from responding, or that she might not have received the communiqué at all," T'Dun was telling the three Councilors. "When I could not get a fix on her locator, I surmised that she may have encountered the interference we had been searching for. As I was her teammate and the closest of our group to the sector she was surveying, it was logical for me to investigate. I alerted the next closest team of my intentions and set out towards her last known location. If she had not been there, I intended to follow the route she had outlined prior to our parting. That turned out to be unnecessary. As I noted in my report, by the time I was in sight of her, she was surrounded by a luminous cloud of unknown composition. It dissipated before I was in reach of her."

Sarek nodded at the young Vulcan woman.

"Yes, I had an opportunity to read your report before meeting with Savensu Uhura this afternoon," he said. "Your instincts served you and your savensu well. The entity may have retreated from her before it could cause any damage because of your timely arrival."

T'Dun's expression did not change, but Uhura suspected she was confused. Council members T'Pau and Verdak, she knew, were at least mildly scandalized at Sarek's words.

Vulcans did not rely on _instinct_. To do so went against the very way of life they'd striven to practice for thousands of years. Sarek might believe that as people, they must change in order to survive, but Uhura worried that he might be pushing too far, too fast. These people, after all, couldn't be expected to forget that he had chosen a human mate. And that his son's human former lover remained on the colony because of his recommendation.

"Sir, it was logic and training that caused me to go to the savensu," she said, turning slightly to face him. "Those of us whom she selected to accompany her on this mission were briefed on field protocol. I also had similar training for my previous occupation. On Vulcan, I was a geologist for a mining operation. We often conducted field surveys, and followed comparable protocol when separated from associates."

"Yes, of course," Sarek said. "But I believe that said protocol leaves some initiative to the individual. Under the circumstances, it would not have been illogical to have waited until the other team was in a position to assist you in investigating Savensu Uhura's situation. We have no way of knowing what the entity might have done with her, had you not reached their vicinity when you did."

He met T'Dun's steady gaze, apparently unaware that all other eyes in the group had shifted to him. No one spoke as the moments passed.

"I have no reason to believe my presence had any effect on the entity," T'Dun said at last. "It disappeared from view, and Savensu Uhura reported being… released from its… examination, before I was within reach of her."

Sarek lifted an eyebrow at that.

"But who is to say what is 'within reach' for this… presence," he asked.

But then the double doors across the room opened and the waiting was over.

________________________

She saw Kirk first. The young Starfleet captain was dwarfed by that tall, muscular Vulcan guard escorting the group. Oh, but he was handsome in his dress uniform, and though there was an air of confidence about him as he the group of men into the room, his usual swagger was missing. A soft smile played on her lips. She wouldn't have to worry about him misbehaving himself tonight.

McCoy was close on the captain's heels. A trickle of found amusement eased some of the tension in her shoulders. All of the doctor's usual bluster and indignation were distilled down to the essence and bottled up in his walk. She wondered if he was annoyed about having had his molecules displaced and rearranged, or about beaming down to a place full of Vulcans. Whichever, she wasn't nearly as worried about him causing a scene. Len knew when to turn it off — even if he didn't always do it.

Spock and Spock stood side by side at the double doors. One was dressed in Starfleet dress uniform. The other wore formal Vulcan robes. Both were tall and stood erect. Both were beautiful. Both looked over and met her eyes. The bright eyes that had shone for Kirk and McCoy dulled.

________________________

In a sea of sober faces and precise posture, she was an island of expression. Quickly hidden as it had been, he had seen the smile she'd directed at Jim and Bones. The elders standing around would not have approved, he thought, but were perhaps impressed with — or at least thankful for — her ability to compose herself again in such short order.

For Spock, the shining eyes that were all that remained of the brief upturn of her full lips were nearly everything he needed at present. A reminder of the woman he had left behind when he had left the future behind. An assurance that this Nyota's inner strength remained. Renewed hope that he would succeed in keeping his promise to his own Nyota.

Then she saw him and his younger self and the light faded from her eyes.

Spock glanced at his younger self to see that he was also staring across the room.

________________________

She was not pleased to see him.

The thought cut into Spock the moment he saw the happiness fade from her face.

His presence brought her pain. She had smiled for the captain and for the doctor, but he and his older self had chased away her joy.

It should not matter. It was illogical to hope to change the repercussions of his decision.

But it still hurt that she could not smile for him.

________________________

Joy. It was not an emotion Tabansi Wakufunzi had experienced much over the past twenty-seven years. He could count the moments on one hand: When his sister had given birth to the tiny girl who would become his second star. The first time he had held his niece and she had stared at him with eyes identical to his own and smiled what M'Umbha had said was her first smile. The night she had stretched her tiny arms up to him and begged him to lift her to the stars. The moment she had declared she would join him in Starfleet had been somewhat bittersweet, but the sweet had been joy nonetheless.

Tonight he filled that hand.

She stood across the room, watching him, her beautiful face and form frozen.

Then her eyes met his and there was the smile. Not the blindingly brilliant one he had become accustomed to seeing as she grew and matured into a confident, capable woman. This was like that first smile, full of love and trust and a _knowing_ he still couldn't explain. Only this time he also saw relief and gratitude there.

He wanted to go to her, but there were protocols to be observed. Tonight, she wasn't his second star, the reason he stilled believed in hopes and dreams. Tonight, she was his second in command. He waited to be formally announced.

________________________

Bones hated these kinds of parties. The kind where you couldn't ask a pretty lady to dance, and you couldn't expect to find a decent drink or anyone who would recognize one if he were swimming in it. Before their last visit to the colony, he'd thought they would be too busy looking into the logistics of reestablishing the diminished race as an active member of the Federation to have time for time-wasters like these.

He'd been wrong.

The Vulcans hadn't needed the Enterprise crew to help them figure anything out. They had plans and more plans to put the others into works. Hell, they even had plans to make new plans.

The Enterprise had been there because the Vulcans needed to be seen welcoming the only Starfleet officers that survived the Battle. Representatives from the other Federation member-planets needed to see the god-damned starship that had carried the precious Vulcan High Council away from death and destruction orbiting the colony.

And that had meant being on display at "parties" large and small during their first official visit. The Hall of Welcome hadn't existed then — hell the hobgoblins hadn't even broken ground yet — so it had also meant gathering in private homes and public places and making nice with way more Vulcans than he had ever planned to make nice with.

He'd thought this smaller reception—with just Old Spock, Jim, Kid Spock and Uhura's uncle meeting with the Council and some of Uhura's students would be better.

He'd been wrong.

Bansi and both Spocks were watching Uhura. Not that he could blame any of them. Who knew how long it had been since uncle and niece had been on the same planet, let alone in the same room?

And Uhura had a face and body Bones figured even a full Vulcan would find it hard to ignore

He was pretty sure the looks on those two _half_-Vulcan faces could spell trouble if someone didn't do something soon.

Despite the warning look he caught from his lovely crewmate when he'd walked in the door, itching to bitch about… everything, he was tempted to be that someone.

________________________

Jim glanced behind himself at the four men who had beamed down with him. The sight of them almost wiped the habitual genial smile from his face. He really didn't need this kind of shit on this night of all nights.

He decided to go after the easiest target.

"Bones,' he murmured through clenched teeth, catching the doctor's eye. "Not. Now." He flicked his head at the two Spocks. "I think they're going to be enough to handle without you adding your sparkling banter to the mix."

McCoy drew in a defeated breath and seemed about to bow to Kirk's orders when Ambassador Spock spoke up.

"I believe the Commander and I can 'handle' ourselves, Jim," he said, just a little bit mockingly. "And, should we find that we cannot, Lt. Commander Wakufunzi has already agreed to stand between us and any unpleasantness our presence might cause Lt. Uhura. Do not concern yourself about Spock and me. We have managed to settle most of our differences in spite of the… assistance you so gallantly offered."

Damn! Kirk thought to himself. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut about Uhura living with the ambassador.

He turned to face the room again to see all eyes in the now-silent room were on them.

________________________

The moment he saw her stiffen, Sarek moved to her side. He believed she was the right choice for his son, but had no wish to see her distressed. He would watch over their reunion. To stand by while Spock allowed a sense of duty to blind him to the correct path would not be conducive to Sarek's purposes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught T'Pau's speculative gaze and felt a sudden urge to shield Uhura from the matriarch of his House. He would protect her in a way that he had not tried to protect his own mate. As he had not protected his son.

"Captain James Tiberius Kirk, of the Enterprise. Doctor Leonard McCoy, of the Enterprise," the door guard began announcing the guests. "Ambassador Spock, son of Sarek. Commander Spock, of the Enterprise and son of Sarek. Lt. Commander Tabansi Wakufunzi, of Starfleet."

Sarek had never wanted to hold the hand of another woman once he had met Amanda Grayson, but he recognized that the gesture was one a human father might offer his daughter in times of distress.

He settled for touching the sleeve of Uhura's robe.

"Let us greet our guests, ko-fu," he said, and urged her forward.

* * *

**A/N:**

Disclaimer: I don't anything Star Trek.


	18. Into the Storm

All at once, she was standing before him. His breath caught in his chest.

"Nyota." Her name was like a prayer on his lips. His eyes raked over her face the way a starving man would stare at feast behind glass. He longed to wrap her in the shelter or his arms and promise her she would never cry again. The bounds of Vulcan decorum prevented that, of course, and it was long past the time when she would have believed his lie, anyway. "Mi estrella pequeña. Are you well?"

Uhura stared back into eyes that matched her own and reached out to grasp his hands. Propriety be damned! She figured. Most of the Vulcans in the room were familiar enough with human practices — and familiar enough with her — not to be offended by mild gesture of open affection.

"_Now_, I am well, uncle," she said in Kiswahili and then released him because, while she knew her students and the Council would make allowances for her humanity, she couldn't forget that many were less accepting of the changes Sarek had been suggesting. She knew some believed those changes came from his association with her.

It took more of an effort than she had expected to hold on to a cool mask of composure and she turned and welcomed the rest of the group as a whole. Her eyes kept drifting back to Uncle Tabansi, her anchor, as she exchanged pleasantries with Kirk and Bones, and avoided looking either Spock in the eye.

.

.

She did not touch the others in greeting, Sarek noted with a relief he did not show. He could guess why she had been so brief in her show of affection to her uncle and was equally grateful for and dismayed at her restraint. It was not his intention for her to become a Vulcan woman, but he also knew his people would need to be eased into the changing times.

He watched as she made her apologies and then led her uncle away to be introduced to the rest of the Council. Sarek knew he should join them, but something more important required his attention.

"Sa-fu," he addressed the elderly man who his son nonetheless. "It is pleasing that you have returned to us so quickly. I trust your testing of our new starship was informative?"

Spock greeted his attempt at distraction with a nod.

"It was, sa-mekh," he assured his father. "Lt. Sulu, who is, as you know, an accomplished pilot, agreed to perform further analysis of the Uzh Palikaya and will deliver his report when he joins us tomorrow."

"That is satisfactory," he said, and turned to his younger son. His relationship with that Spock was still developing. He chose his words with even more care than he usually would have done. "Welcome, sa-fu," he told him. "Your absence has been noticed. I am pleased to be in your presence once more."

.

.

Kirk found himself enjoying the Vulcan Ambassador's company. It was surprising because Sarek, son of Skon, was not a Vulcan ambassador he ever expected to like. He wasn't sure that was the case, even now; but Spock's dad was turning out to be less of an asshole than he had been in Ambassador Spock's timeline.

"Loosen, up Bones," he told his visibly agitated friend when he thought he was out of earshot of Vulcan hearing. "This Sarek isn't nearly the dickhead he was in other Spock's time." He made a note to himself to stop judging the people he met based on his "memories" from the mind-meld on Delta Vega.

"Thank you, Captain," Sarek said, turning from his conversation with his two sons. "I have been informed of how much of a 'dickhead' my counterpart was and have been striving to do better. I appreciate knowing that I have been somewhat successful in my endeavors."

McCoy choked on stifled laughter.

Not looking the least bit shamefaced, Kirk engaged the older man in a question and answer session that kept the five of them occupied as Uhura escorted Wakufunzi around the room, introducing him to Vulcans present.

.

.

It was good to be around family again. She hadn't realized how much she needed that until she'd been standing in front of Uncle Tabansi, reaching for his hands. Now that they had made the rounds and endured the seemingly endless questions of the Councilors and her — no, _their_ — students, she was glad to have him alone for however long it lasted.

"You _look_ well, Little Star," he told her, his eyes taking in her erect posture and the newly shorn hair lying in loose curls close to her scalp. "You _say_ you are well. But _are_ you well? Truly, Nyota?"

The words to answer his questions were lost.

"It was easier," she explained, instead. Self-consciously, she ran a hand over the curve of her skull. "While I was in the wilderness, all that hair didn't make sense. So, I cut it all off. It was like a… purging."

His face was grave as he looked down at her face.

"And did this purge work, Little Star?" he wanted to know. "Are you truly well, now?"

She had to be honest. Even if she hadn't been living among Vulcans for more than six months, telling the truth had always been her first choice. And of all her extended family, she was closest to this man. He would know if she lied.

"I will be well, mjomba," she promised him in Kiswahili. "I am well _most_ of the time. Soon, I believe I will be _all_ of the time."

She gave him another fleeting smile. He knew heartbreak.

"But I want to talk about _you_, " she insisted. "We've spent the last six years talking mostly talking about _me_. How _I_ liked my classes at the Academy. How many of your records _I_ was breaking. _My_ time on the Enterprise. Please, mjomba, let's not talk about me tonight. Tell me why you agreed to come to the colony. Surely it wasn't just to see your favorite niece?" She was only half teasing. This uncle would do almost anything to ensure her happiness. The knowledge was humbling without feeling like a burden. She loved him too much to feel overly guilty about it.

"I came," he told her, "because I once knew a little girl who wanted to reach the stars. At the time, I was afraid for her and afraid for myself. Even then she inspired me. And although, eventually, I wasn't scared anymore, when a man reaches a certain age, Command begins to believe he might be too old for long-term off-world postings. But even Starfleet Command doesn't say 'no' when the Vulcan High Council requests an old man by name."

Forgetting herself and where she was, Uhura grinned brightly at his teasing.

"They're getting a bargain," she said, her eyes shining once again. "_Two_ Wakufunzis to do their bidding! They will learn that soon enough."

Uncle Tabansi's smile matched hers.

"I know," he said.

.

.

He stood in a circle of Council members, all of whom questioned him about his work on the Enterprise and for Starfleet. Some clearly still felt the sting of his rejection of the Vulcan Science Academy, but others appeared to be merely curious.

His eyes were on Uhura.

Her joy was apparent to anyone who looked at her. It was illogical to feel jealous of M'Umbha Uhura's brother — the man was not his rival and never could be — but Spock wanted to be the one who made her happy. He wanted her wild grins directed at him. He wished to be the one who could chase her hurt away. He wished he was not the one who had hurt her.

"Your father and t'dahsu have suggested that in order to move forward, we as a people must adjust our thinking in ways many would see as devolving into the irrationality of our ancestors," Verdak, whom Spock thought was a particularly judgmental Council member, noted. "Some are saying that they have adopted this philosophy due to their extended exposure to human women. What are your thoughts on the matter, Commander? Are you in agreement with your elder self and with your father? Could these women have so altered their understanding of Surak's teaching that they would lead us back to those dark times?"

Spock did not wish to make an enemy, but neither did he wish to allow the implied insult to both his mother and his beloved go unanswered. He was taken back to the day he had been offered a place at the Academy. Verdak had not been seated on the dais, but he may as well have been. It was a wonder that Nyota and her uncle had been approved to share their knowledge if this man represented the majority views of the Council. He reminded himself that some of the members in the circle had been nothing but polite.

"I am not privy to all of the changes my father and Ambassador Spock have recommended to the Council, so I am unable to form an adequate response to your second query. Without further knowledge, I can neither agree nor disagree with their findings," he told the man, his voice smooth. "However, I shall endeavor to answer your first and third queries in terms which you can clearly comprehend.

"The 'human women' you referred to are she who was my mother and she who would have been my bond-mate — two intelligent women who spent considerable time learning about, and acclimating themselves to our culture.

"My father and t'dahsu are both intelligent men who embrace the words of Surak, and who have devoted their lives to serving the interests of the Vulcan people. I believe they would consider all paths open to them before making a recommending that our people undertake fundamental changes to our society."

He nodded curtly at Verdak and more politely to others in the group before turning to take his leave.

His feet were already set in the direction of Lt. Commander Wakufunzi and his niece when he was summoned by a voice from the group he was leaving behind.

"Spock," T'Pau said, "I would speak with you now."

He turned and followed his matriarch as she headed for a secluded corner of the small room.

.

.

She didn't trust the old woman. When Sarek had asked her to avoid spending time alone with T'Pau, she had suspected he was being overly protective again. Since she'd arrived on the colony, the men of the S'chn T'gai family had been treating as if she were made of glass. Even in her troubled state, that had been unacceptable. It was almost always useless to argue with any of them, she had found. Instead, she had learned to prove herself to them.

So, she hadn't quite believed she had much to worry about when Sarek had warned her away from the woman. Seeing a clearly (to Uhura's eyes, at least, and most likely to any Vulcan who happened to glance his way, as well) shaken Spock walk away from the old Vulcan made her stop to reevaluate.

Too late, she realized that T'Pau was staring back at her. When the old woman noticed Uhura noticing her notice, she beckoned.

Knowing she had no other choice, she made her way over to the far corner of the room.

.

.

T'Pau wasted no time attempting to offer the human woman a polite mask. Spock had been resolute in his refusal, in spite of what she had revealed to him. She did not believe that Nyota Uhura, for all her strength of will — and T'Pau _did_ see great strength, an impressive-for-a-human level of determination, in the girl — would prove to be as worthy an opponent.

In truth, she actually liked the girl. Had circumstances been different, she surely would have even welcomed this second human into her House. But now, she could not afford to lose. Her people could not afford to lose.

"I can help you," she said as soon as Uhura reached her corner. "Our healers can make you forget."

* * *

**A/N:** I'm afraid I had to split this chapter _again_. Hopefully, the last bit will come late Sunday night.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.


	19. Refuge

What the hell did the old Vulcan _mean_? Uhura knew exactly what T'Pau was offering — she had thought about it herself a time or two, wondered if it was an option. But she didn't know why T'Pau was bringing it up, making the offer.

"Why are you saying this? Why would you want to help me?" she asked, regretting that correct pronunciation of the Vulcan words did not allow for the emphasis, the emotion she wished to express. Why would you want to help _me_? she wanted to ask. Why would _you_ want to help me? Why would you want to _help_ me?

But apparently inflection and word stress weren't necessary because T'Pau answered the question she was really asking.

"Helping you is ancillary to my purpose, which is preserving the Vulcan way of life," she told the young human. "Spock is stubborn. It is one of his greatest strengths, as well as one of his greatest weaknesses. He refused my offer and would not listen to its benefits.

"Some Vulcans deny their emotions, Nyota Uhura, but you know the truth is that we refuse to be ruled by them. Vulcans feel far more deeply than a human can comprehend.

"Your mate is allowing his love for you to keep him from making the right choice for Vulcan. You, who are not encumbered by such strong devotion, must be the one to make this choice."

For a long moment Uhura was struck speechless. T'Pau's words were frightening and exhilarating, confusing and comforting. They were… _wrong_. She would not allow them to hurt her.

"Spock is not my mate," she said quietly. Her felt a veil of grim resolve settle over her face. She would not let the old woman's words hurt her.

T'Pau watched her appraisingly for a long time. Nearly a minute passed before she spoke.

"No," she said, at last, "you are not bonded in the Vulcan way. But you are his and he is yours in way that is neither human nor Vulcan. Why do you think Sarek so readily accepted you as a daughter? All of our House feels your… _joining _with Spock, but none so much as his father, and perhaps, his t'dahsu.

"If you truly wish to aid Vulcan, you will do what Spock cannot. You must be the one to walk away."

The old woman continued to stare at Uhura, the calm demeanor never breaking. Either unaware of the wild storm raging inside the human before her, or simply not caring, her dark eyes did not shift away.

Not sure that she could speak at length without unleashing the maelstrom, Uhura gave a short nod.

"I will think about what you have said, my lady," she said. Then she turned her back on T'Pau and walked away.

________

Tabansi Wakufunzi looked up from the eager faces surrounding him and saw a familiar figure moving out of the only dark corner of the room.

Nyota's face was set; her back was stiff. Even as he reflected that he was exercising his duty to Starfleet and to the Federation, he chided himself for allowing his niece to leave his side while he had been distracted by the late arrivals.

She had walked away and he had been trapped introducing his subordinates to her students and to the Councils members only himself met this night.

He started to excuse himself from the members of his team.

Commander Spock was at her side before the lieutenant commander had a chance to speak. He glanced over to the old Vulcan woman who had been speaking to his second star. Her face was unreadable, but he could not shake the sense of dread about whatever she might have said in their short conference.

Wakufunzi returned his attention to his group, but kept one eye on his niece and her former lover.

________

Jim Kirk had never been more relieved to see a party wind down. Before Vulcan — before his first visit to this colony — he had always been the one who never wanted them to end. Tonight, he wanted to collect his crew and his guests and return to the starship that had become his home.

He scanned the room, seeking out his people among the Vulcans.

Bones was with Sarek, and apparently behaving himself. Jim offered up a brief prayer of thanks to any deity who might be listening that the one person who had been most likely than himself to cause offense was playing nice.

Ambassador Spock wasn't really one of his, but Jim's eyes found his tall form, anyway. He stood alone, halfway across the room and facing slightly away from Kirk. Tracking a further in that direction, the captain saw his friend was watching Lt. Commander Wakufunzi.

Uncle Bansi, as Jim had started calling the man in his head, but never to his face, was talking to his team members, but his eyes were on Uhura. And Spock.

Jim groaned.

________

He had waited, wanting to be sure he was the first to reach her. When she had emerged from T'Pau's corner, he had fallen in step with her almost immediately.

"Are you well, Nyota?" he asked, not looking at her as they crossed the room. Her scent surrounded him, and he forced himself not to touch her. Looking at her face would be his undoing.

"I don't know," she said. "Should I be well? People keep asking me that tonight, as if I should not."

Spock chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye. She did not appear to be angry or distraught. She was simply… there. And yet not.

"T'Pau made you an offer." It was not a question.

"The same offer you refused, I gather."

He felt his ears heat at the irony lacing her words, but remained silent.

"I didn't say 'no,'" she told him. He looked at her then. He could not look away. "I didn't accept, but I didn't refuse either. She didn't offer out of a sudden rush of empathy for a solitary human."

She spoke unnecessarily. She said things he already knew. Already understood.

"She said she could help me, but what she really wants is to get rid of the 'Uhura problem,' so to speak, without losing the benefits of having two Wakufunzis at the colony's disposal," she continued. "I understand her reasoning. I don't like it, but I get it. What I don't get, Spock, is why _you_ said 'no'."

And she was walking away from _him_, towards the other half-Vulcan.

________

Spock pulled Kirk and McCoy aside before they could exit the reception room. His father and his young counterpart were saying their good-byes. He had seen enough to renew his faith in himself and in his pledge.

Jim would do whatever it took to help. Bones would make refusal nearly unbearable.

* * *

One point four seven hours passed between the end of the reception and his arrival at his home. Nyota had left the Hall right away.

His sitting room was lit only by the small viewscreen hanging on a wall, and by the full moon beyond the window. He recognized the vid she was watching. She had viewed it many times since coming to live with him.

She had removed her formal clothes and donned a long sleeved shirt and soft pants. She was sitting in a chair facing the screen, pulled into a tight ball, all of her attention seemingly on the pair in the vid. He was not certain she was aware of his presence until her quiet voice pierced the silence.

"Computer, halt vid."

Spock moved into the room and took a seat on the small sofa facing the window.

"Are Joel Barish and Clementine Kruczynski the lucky ones?" she asked, not turning away from the now empty viewscreen. "They got to forget and find each other all over again."

His eyes moved from her still form to the window. The moon hung in the sky, a mockery of all he had failed to give his k'diwa.

"I cannot answer that for you, Nyota," he said. "You must talk to him. You must decide with him."

She stood, walked over to the sofa and sat, but not close enough to lean her head on his shoulder. He did not take her hand as he once would have done.

"I know," she breathed.

His voice was gentle as he told, "I have asked him to come."

She nodded, rose from her seat and left the room.

* * *

He knocked softly against the old fashioned door, halfway hoping for no answer.

"Come," came the quiet response. "It's open."

The bed dominated the little room.

The only other furniture was a small plush chair and a bureau with a mirror above it.

She sat cross-legged on the bed, her back braced against the wall. A small pile of pillows had been shoved off to the side.

"Sit," she said, waving at the chair beside the bed.

Spock sat.

"I walked away before you could speak," she said. "I didn't give you a chance to explain."

He held her eyes. This was not the time for misunderstandings.

"I was not prepared to explain myself at that time," he admitted. "You would not have found anything I said satisfactory."

She did not look surprised at his confession. With no more than a simple nod, she continued to watch him. To wait for him to speak.

"There is something between us, Nyota," he said. "A link of some kind. It is not Vulcan, and T'Pau does not know how to remove it. She does not believe I can bond while it exists."

Nyota nodded again, but he noticed she had begun to rub her fingers against each other.

"I — I do not wish to be without it," he continued. "I have come to believe that it, more than my upbringing, has helped me to… exist since Vulcan was destroyed."

He was unsure of what to say next. Her eyes watched him steadily, but her agitation translated itself through her fingers which repeatedly twined and untwined and wrapped themselves around one another.

"I did not recognize it was there, Nyota." He used his eyes to beg her to understand. "Before I became… aware of it, I believed that the pain of our separation would lessen," he told her honestly. "It was my hope that in time, your love for me would fade."

She threw up her hands in a very human gesture of exasperation.

"But it won't, Spock! Because this… whatever it is we have between us — this thing that has existed in at least two timelines, this thing that even T'Pau can't begin to understand — is _real_. It's inside of me and it's inside of you and I don't think it's going anywhere. If Spock still has it when he's not even in the same universe as his Nyota Uhura, how can you pretend it's not important? How can you think it isn't enough?"

He was torn. He was being pulled in two directions and neither offered the balance he had only just begun to seek. He did not have an answer for her.

"Nyota," he began, "I do not know what to say to you. I — I don't know the correct path. I was not yet aware of this thing when I made my decision."

Her eyes softened then. He could see that she wanted to relent, to offer him comfort. He knew the moment when she decided she would not do so.

"This is your choice, Spock. I'm not going to give you an easy out. I refuse to be the one to walk away again," she told him, her voice firm. "I love you, but I'm learning to live without you. With this _thing_, we're never really apart. But I _will_ continue to exist if it's gone."

* * *

**A/N:** And that's it for the party three-parter.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.


	20. First Step

"Will you?" she asked. "Can you live without me?"

Spock hesitated as he felt the cold settle against his flesh again. At one time he would have answered her readily in the positive. While he had known he would always love her and regret — as wasteful as the emotion was, he had also known that he would feel it for the rest of his days after walking away from this woman — that he could not stay by her side, he had also believed that devoting himself to a Vulcan union would fulfill a greater need.

"I do not know, beloved," he said quietly and saw her flinch at the endearment. The encroaching cold seeped into his bones. "Our love has sustained me. I did not understand the full extent of my need to love and be loved by you until you did not return to the Enterprise and I began to fail."

He was unused to feeling helpless, but he knew it was the source of the cold. His inability to come to an equitable arrangement for his people, his lover and himself leached the heat from his body as much as his fear of living — or of dying — without her did.

At first he could control the tremors that threatened to radiate from his abdomen to his limbs and cloud his mind in a haze of incomprehension. He was much stronger than when he had last felt the icy fingers wrapping around him. But he was not yet strong enough to fight it completely. As his resistance faltered, as he began to succumb to oblivion again, he imagined that even the blood fever could not be as terrible as what he was experiencing.

Nyota Uhura, his Nyota, seemed to see what was happening to him because just as his mind began to separate from his body her arms were around him, her cool mass against him pushing back the chill.

"I am still here, k'diwa," she was saying, her breath against his ear. "I'm with you now."

He could feel her concern, her love, her fear through their link and through the touch of her hands against the nape of his neck and on his cheek.

"I'm here, Spock," she said again. "It can't have you."

Feeling himself come together again, he wrapped his arms around her, clutching her body against his, fingers seeking to touch as much of her as he could.

"I'm sorry, beloved," he whispered, unashamed of the raw agony spilling out for her to hear and see and feel. "I am not ready… I need — ."

She cut him off with her lips on his. On his face. On his neck. Against the fabric of his tunic.

"It's okay," she murmured into his chest, although they both knew that it was not. "For now, I'm here."

Then she was pulling out of his embrace, her hand trailing down his arm until it reached his seeking fingers.

"Come," she ordered, tugging him back to bed she must have leapt off of to catch him before he could fall outside of himself again. "Stay."

She sat, watching him as he fell back into his seat and began removing his boots and his clothing.

When he stood before her, naked and open, she shifted to push back the bed coverings beneath her and then scooted to the other side of the bed.

"Come," she said again and he compiled.

He lay beside his love, coiling his arms around the lithe form, a shield against the exhausting cold. His fingers crept beneath the soft cloth of her shirt to stroke her belly.

"Lights out," she said and, turning in the darkness, rested her head against his chest.

* * *

She sensed she was alone and woke before morning light could steal over her face. The situation was no more than she had expected, but disappointing nonetheless.

Rising, she padded across the room to her bathing chamber, stripping off her clothing as she went. A quick glance in the mirror over the sink confirmed that she'd suffered no outward effects from the emotional turmoil of the night before. Good. But she still wished she could stand under a cascade, washing away the icy chill that had wormed its way through her, even as it had threatened to overwhelm Spock.

________________________

Uhura was up early, but by the time she went in search of breakfast both Spocks were already sitting at a table laden with cut fruits, a pitcher of juice and a small tureen. Not knowing how much the younger had shared with the elder — although she suspected that latter knew all, or most, without having to be told — she did not speak as she seated herself between them and ladled out a bowl of the steaming vegetable soup .

"I understand you are to meet with the Council this afternoon," Spock said as she took her first sip.

Flicking her eyes over to the ambassador, she nodded, although his words hadn't been a question. She swallowed her soup.

"Yes," she said. "This morning I am giving Minister Wakufunzi and his party a tour of the facilities and introducing them to the students who were no present last evening. He is already familiar with their curricula and their individual specialties, and has assured me that classes can resume tomorrow. While Uncle Tabansi's team is settling in, he will attend my audience with the Council. Sa-mehk insisted that he be apprised of the situation so that he could monitor it."

The man who had shared her bed in the night raised a curious brow.

"Situation, Nyota?" he asked, looking between his two companions.

Ambassador Spock shot a sharp look in her direction.

"You have not told him about the entity you encountered during your survey?" His was as smoothly controlled as ever, but she detected evidence of censure in his usually warm eyes.

"No," she said, refusing to accept his displeasure with her. "We had other things to discuss during our time together. I did not tell you about my encounter, either, and yet you are aware of it. I assumed that Sa-m—Sarek informed you both."

The old man blinked, backing down. His eyes telegraphed his remorse.

"My apologies," he said. "I spoke out of turn. Your reasoning is sound. Our father assumed you would request Spock's presence, however. I believe he did not think it would be necessary to tell him himself."

Spock let an exasperated sigh and raised a sardonic brow.

"As commendable as your joint powers of deduction concerning the actions and intentions of our father is proving to be," he said, "I take exception to being discussed as if I were not presently in your company. Further, in case you need reminding, I am still not privy to identity of this entity or to what it has to do with Lt. Uhura, or with me."

In spite of having promised herself to remain cool and aloof while in the presence of both of these men, Uhura erupted into laughter at the younger man's outburst. She chanced a glance assess his reaction to her mirth and found him smiling back at her. After basking in his indulgent gaze for what was probably considered longer than was polite even by human standards, she cast worried eyes over at the older Spock. But he was smiling, too.

________________________

Spock was pleased. His counterpart and the younger man's k'diwa were smiling at each other, openly and without reserve. The tension that had been so thick between them the night before was gone. It was not a guarantee of success, but it could be a beginning.

That they were easier in one another's company was a small step, yes, but it was a step they would need to take in order for him to fulfill his pledge to his own Nyota.

________________________

"I don't know what it is, either. Not yet, anyway," Uhura told both of them before quickly recounting her experience in the field for the younger Spock. "Sarek wouldn't support my attempt to find out more unless I take a S'chn T'gai male with me," she explained. "And I can't convince the rest of the Council without his support. Honestly, though, I was under the impression he intended to accompany me himself."

Both Spocks raised identical eyebrows as the smiles vanished from their faces.

"What made you think that Sarek, son of Skon, member of the Vulcan High Council, would wish to confront this entity?" the younger wanted to know.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" the elder asked at the same time.

"He insisted that he was no more important than any other Vulcan," she said, her gaze swinging back and forth between the two. "He said that it was only logical that he should protect the members of his family — one of which he considers me to be."

Neither Spock said anything in response, but Uhura suspected the glances they exchanged might not bode well for the success of meeting with the Council. She aimed a glare at both of them.

"I worked really hard to convince your father that I am probably the best person for the job. If either one of you tries to change that, I will be furious," she warned. "Sarek wasn't pleased with the idea of putting me in this situation, but he agreed that it needed to be done. He understands the importance of this mission."

The younger Spock opened his mouth, but then appeared to realize whatever he had to say was better left unspoken.

The ambassador apparently felt no such need for restraint.

"The Vulcan people are fortunate, Nyota," he said, "that there are three S'chn T'gai males who are willing to stand behind you as you undertake such a significant endeavor."

* * *

**A/N**: I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, and may end up rewriting/expanding it. But, Chapters 21, 24 and 25 are nearly complete and I can't post those without putting up the ones in between. Feedback is especially welcome.


	21. Unspoken

The ambassador's assurance in the back of her mind, buoying her confidence, Uhura took the new Minister of Communications, and the specialists he'd brought with him, on a tour of the building that would house the Ministry of Communications.

The day was full of inspecting equipment and offices and introducing students to their new teachers and colleagues. It all passed by swiftly she didn't have a chance to speak with her uncle alone until they received word that the shuttle had landed and the members of his team went to retrieve the supplies they would be using during their stay on the colony.

"Did she ask more of you than you could give, Estrella Pequeña?" he asked as soon as the last of his subordinates had left their presence on the promise that the lieutenant commander would be joining them shortly.

Uhura didn't pretend not to what Tabansi Wakufunzi was asking her.

"She offered me oblivion," she stated as simply as if she were remarking on Earth's blue skies. "I told her I would consider her offer, but I believe we both understood that I was refusing her."

She stood under Wakufunzi's intense regard for some moments before he spoke to her again.

"Are you happy with your choice?" he asked. "You could not have chosen otherwise — you are a true daughter of Wakufunzi, no matter whose name you carry — but are you happy that forgetting is out of your reach? If not, Little Star, there are other ways. I can speak to— "

She cut him off before he could finish.

"There _was_ no choice," she said earnestly. "Not just because I am a Wakufunzi, but because _he_ might not have a real choice. I don't know if he could live without me, Uncle Bansi. And I don't _want_ to live without what I have with him."

Her eyes fell to the floor. She stared at the pinkish stone as she gathered her thoughts.

"I don't think I can explain it in a way you could understand," she said, looking back into the eyes she had inherited. "He needs me — what we are to each other — and I _want_ it. More than anything else I've ever wanted. Can you accept that? Do you think less of me for it?"

She knew the moment he grasped what she was asking of him and the instant he made his decision.

"Nyota Wangari Uhura bint Wakufunzi," he said, clasping her in his long strong arms, "how can you imagine I might think less of you? I know the power of love, child. I understand _need_. No matter what you decide, I will stand beside you."

* * *

After parting with her uncle, Uhura returned to Ambassador Spock's home to change clothes in preparation for meeting with the High Council. The half-Vulcan was alone.

"If you have no objections, Spock and I wish to attend your audience," he said. "He will meet us at the Council Hall."

"Oh! Okay," she said, a tad uncertainly, as she headed to her bed chamber. "Uncle Tabansi is supervising the shuttle offload, but intends to meet there as well."

The ambassador nodded his assent and she was free to engage in a hurried sonic shower before donning yet another set of formal Vulcan robes.

________________________

Less than half an hour later, Spock and Uhura stood inside the foyer of the Council Hall. If he was as nervous as she was, Uhura could not detect it. She was glancing around for any sign of Commander Spock and Minister Wakufunzi when a Council attendant of indeterminate age approached.

"If it pleases you, I will take you to a place where you can wait until your companions arrive and the Council is ready for you," she told them.

The pair nodded their consent, and the Vulcan woman led them to a small antechamber just off the High Council's Tvi-shal t'Honaya.

________________________

"What would you have chosen, if T'Pau had given you the choice?" Uhura didn't look up from her hands as she asked her question. The two sat side by side, alone in the antechamber, still waiting, fifteen minutes later, for her uncle and the younger Spock to join them.

"She did," the ambassador told her. "T'Pau offer to help me forget, and like you and your k'diwa, I refused. I do not believe it would have had made a difference had I accepted. My link to Nyota Uhura has survived my death and my journey across space and time. I cannot imagine it would falter simply because I could not remember our time together."

She was silent for a long time as she contemplated his revelations. Only when she tired of staring at her fingers, searching for answers they could not hold, did she speak again.

"You refuse to forget her. You don't believe that even if you _could_ — that you would be free of her," she said. "And yet you still intend to take a Vulcan wife. I don't understand. How can you do this? How can that work? How will you… ?" Unable to clearly form her query, she let her words trail off.

"I do not believe it will prove an impediment to my plans," he said, relieving her of the burden of asking her question. "I shall marry without bonding. I am an old man. My… Pon Farrs no long pose the danger they once did. Furthermore, as I do not anticipate traveling far from the colony planet in the future, I will have no need of a bond to alert my wife of my need."

Although he was less reticent than other Vulcans when speaking about their most private of times, she could tell, he was still not entirely comfortable saying the word aloud — even with her, in spite of having told her that her counterpart had helped him through it in the past.

"Do you believe there are any Vulcan women who would agree to that?" she wanted to know. "_Can_ you do that? Is there even such a thing as an unbonded Vulcan marriage?"

Now she looked up to find his intense eyes, his _kind_ intense eyes on her.

"Vulcans must change, Nyota," he said in a voice far more gentle than she was accustomed to hearing from a Vulcan mouth. "My father and I have met some resistance to the idea, yes, but we have found that many more of our people are open to adapting our way of life. They believe, as Sarek and I believe, modification is necessary to our survival."

Uhura sighed, thinking she might cry if she had to hear "Vulcans must change" one time more. It wasn't that she didn't agree — on the contrary, she believed in the sentiment wholeheartedly — but...

"But what does that mean for me and Spock?" She hated the hint of a whine she knew was in her voice. She was stronger than this. Too strong to be felled by a missed chance at love.

________________________

"It does not have to mean anything for you and Spock," the ambassador told her. She didn't think she imagined the regret in his tone. "Or, it could mean everything."

Spock released a sigh of his own.

"It could mean that he decides to follow my lead and enter a new kind of marriage with a Vulcan woman, purely to provide for the proliferation of the species. That, of course, might require that you put yourself at his disposal during his times of need. I know this is something that you find unacceptable at the moment, but when faced with the possibly of the plak tow taking his life, you might feel differently.

"It could also mean that he will come to accept that his place is with you and that in the new order of our world your relationship would be tolerated, if not embraced, because our people will be forced to recognize the his need for you."

She stared at him, all the awareness that had been dawning as he spoke coalescing to worry in her eyes.

"It sounds as if… what you said… Spock, it's as if you mean I will — I'll never be free of him, will I?" she managed finally, feeling like her heart was breaking all over again. "You think, no matter what happens, even I can live without him, he can't survive without me."

"This is true," he said sadly. "T'Pau also believes it to be so, Nyota. She is a great strategist — in both her incarnation in my universe and this one. She knows what it means to be a true daughter of Wakufunzi. And in both realities, her calculations faltered because she failed to properly evaluate one variable: Spock.

"My failure to take on the part she set for me, then and now, resulted in the alteration of what she had planned for you and for Vulcan. For that — for the role I have played in each of our worlds, I am sorry."

Her cool fingers brushed against his wrist. The touch allowed him to feel her

_affection_

_compassion_

_need to protect him _

_anger_.

"None of this is you fault, Spock," she said, her quiet voice fervently adamant. "Not what Nero did, not what T'Pau wants to do, and definitely not whatever happens with me and Spock. You can't even really blame yourself for what happened between you and your Nyota.

"You can't blame yourself for trying to follow the right path when you were effectively blinded. T'Pau may have had good intentions, but her methods were manipulative at best and cruel, whether or not that was her intent. Her 'calculations faltered' because she failed to ensure all of the components were prepared to act as they were needed to act. Any of your supposed 'failures' to fall in with her plans can be laid at her failure to inform you that your were a player in her game."

Spock opened his mouth but closed it again without speaking. Moments later, the door to the antechamber opened and the same Vulcan woman who had escorted them there led Commander Spock and Lt. Commander Wakufunzi into to the small room.

The commander's eyes immediately fell on Uhura's fingers resting on the back of Spock's hand. They flicked up to study first her face, and then his elder counterpart's. Spock willed the younger man not to misread the contact.

Tabansi Wakufunzi was watching the man at his side closely. His eyes drifted over to meet the ambassador's before locking stares with his niece. She smiled at her uncle and at her k'diwa. Her eyes, Spock could see, dared either man to challenge her.

The newcomers turned as one to thank their guide, who, Vulcan-like, assured them their appreciation was unnecessary.

Uhura withdrew her hand and rose from her seat to greet them.

"Ambassador Sarek asked me to inform you that the High Council will call for you in ten minutes," the escort told the little group before exiting.

Then the young half-Vulcan and his love were lost to rest of them again.

Ambassador Spock glanced at Tabansi Wakufunzi's resigned face and felt relief wash over him.

* * *

**A/N:** More to come tomorrow, I hope.

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em.


	22. Revelations

The door to the antechamber opened to admit the attendant who would escort the small group to the Council audience that would determine whether Uhura would be able to seek out the entity once again. She was not alone.

"T'Dun," the human woman said, staring at the young Vulcan woman dressed in formal robes, "your presence is unexpected."

Her student looked back at her impassively.

"As I was the only person to witness the entity enveloping you, it is only logical that the Council would wish to hear my testimony, Savensu," she said in carefully modulated tones.

"Yes," Uhura conceded, nodding, "of course. I assumed that they would take evidence from your report, but they undoubtedly have questions for you."

"That is what I have surmised," T'Dun responded. "Although my report was thorough, Councilor T'Pau insisted that I attend."

Uhura would have said more, but the attendant beckoned them to the door.

"The High Council is ready for you and your party, Savensu Uhura," she said.

________________________

"Savensu Uhura," intoned the robed figure on the dais, "share with us what you experienced with this being while on your first survey."

Uhura let her mind drift back to that early evening in the broad valley. She had sent T'Dun twenty kilometers away so that they could more efficiently complete the analysis of their assigned sector.

"One point three standard hours after T'Dun contacted me to say she had reached her destination," she began, "I noticed that the readings on the tri-corder she had adapted for our survey matched those that Ambassador Spock had taken during his initial survey of the colony planet. I thought it odd that my readings matched his scans. Usually, there are detectable differences between planetary analyses and scans taken from starships. It was then that I heard the audible vibration."

_The glowing mist had moved towards her, and she had frozen. The hum seemed to increase its frequency as she focused on the luminescent cloud. Although she had wished to retreat, she had been was uncertain that taking such action would be effective. The shuttle was gone. No shelter was in sight. The hazy mass was moving towards her at a velocity which, even running at full speed, she could not match._

_Her heart rate had increased as a tendril separated itself from the rest and moved towards her, but a feeling of peace spread throughout her entire being as it touched her._

"It was curious," she told them. "It did not speak to me in words, but it conveyed first, its curiosity, and then recognition. I do not understand how it was possible, but it knew who I was. I then perceived its surprise and pleasure at having encountered me. It left me with one last impression before it broke contact: satisfaction. I do not understand the source — it retreated too quickly for me to get a sense of that. Moments later, it was gone and T'Dun was calling to me."

Her questioner nodded once and then turned his eyes to her student.

"T'Dun," he said, "you said in your report that you went in search of Savensu Uhura after she failed to respond to your second attempt to contact her."

"Yes, Councilor Verdak," she responded. "Savensu had directed us to check in at two-hour intervals whenever we were separated from our partners. My first communiqué was simply to let her know that I had reached my designated section of our shared sector of the survey area. My second attempt marked the second hour."

Verdak nodded again.

"And how long did it take you to reach Savensu Uhura?"

"Thirty-three minutes elapsed before I was able to locate and come within sight of the savensu," T'Dun replied.

The Vulcan Council turned to face the human woman once more.

"Savensu Uhura," he began, "forty-two minutes after you first noted the duplicate readings, your field partner was unable to reach by communicator or find you via your locator."

"This is true, Councilor," she said, afraid she knew where he was going by asking her and T'Dun to restate what they had already reported, but unable to respond in any other way.

"At what point during those forty-two minutes did the entity first make physical contact with you?"

Uhura's heart sank to her stomach.

"I do not know, Councilor," she admitted. "Humans do not possess internal clocks as precise as those of Vulcans and once I was aware of the entity's presence, I did not make note of my chronometer."

She saw the Council members exchange glances and worried that she'd just killed whatever slim chance she may have had of communing with the presence again.

"Give us a round number, as you humans would say, Savensu," Verdak asked. "Would you say it touched you an hour after you made note of the similarity of the readings. Half an hour, perhaps?"

"It was less than that, Councilor," she answered. "Fewer than ten minutes had passed before I first saw the entity."

"You are sure of this?" he challenged. "Even with you less than precise human internal clock, you are certain so little time went by?"

"I am quite certain, Councilor," she answered. Then, unable to stop herself, she added, "My human internal clock is at least up to determining such broad blocks of time."

She would have winced at her own words if she hadn't suspected that she'd already blown her chances.

"Savensu Uhura," T'Pau addressed her, "your description of the events after noting the parity of your readings with Ambassador Spock's scan do not suggest that a long interval between your notation and the entity making its presence know to you. Yet, T'Dun was unable to contact you after forty-two minutes had elapsed after you discovered the similarities and you were still enveloped in the entity when she came within sight of you thirty-three minutes after she began searching for you.

"Savensu, you say that humans do not possess precise internal clocks, but would you say that you _felt_ as if you were in physical contact with the being for one hour and fifteen minutes?"

Uhura was suddenly quite certain that if had not already earned the Council's denial, her next words would do the job for her.

"Councilor T'Pau," she said, "while I was in physical contact with the entity, I felt as if no time at all had passed."

* * *

The two half-humans and one human man sat in the antechamber again. They and T'Dun had been banished from the Tvi-shal t'Honaya when T'Pau had declared that the Council needed to meet with Nyota alone. They were free to wait if they wished, but they could not stay for the second part of her interview.

T'Dun had left. The three men had returned to the small room, each reminding himself that Sarek was a Councilor and would see to it that she was not mistreated.

Spock had gone cold as he listened to Nyota's words with an ever-growing sense of trepidation. He began to suspect he knew what this entity was.

His t'dahsu's eyes bored into him, though he was certain he had not shown any outward sign of his distress and, since the strange healing meld, their shields had prevented any accidental emotional transference. Still, the younger man seemed to sense his disquiet. He wondered how soon the commander would demand an explanation.

"_What is amiss?_" The question, whispered in Vulcan, was Spock's answer.

Briefly, he considered ignoring his counterpart, but knew that had he been in the other man's place, he would feel he had a right to know. Although his was neither the time nor the place, Spock decided to tell all he knew.

"_I believe I know who, or what the entity is_," he replied in the same language. "_Your k'diwa describes an experience that is markedly similar to the one described by my own Nyota_."

Wakufunzi's sharp intake of breath had both men turning to the human.

"_This… thing sought out my niece in your universe, as well_?" Nyota's uncle asked. He did not speak the language as fluently as the daughter of his elder sister, but Spock was not surprised to find that he was more than proficient. Tabansi was bin Wakufunzi, after all.

"_It is perhaps only coincidence that it has found her both here and in the reality from which I come_," he cautioned, "_but I suspect that your interpretation is more likely_."

The younger Spock blinked and the elder recognized his confusion, but the human man's curiosity had not been satiated.

"_She did not tell me that her other self also had such an encounter_," Wakufunzi whispered, his focus on his hands. Spock was reminded of the Nyota Uhura who remained closeted with the High Council, perhaps even now still courting their favor.

"_I did not tell her the full tale_," he admitted. "_My Nyota did not encounter the entity until she was nearly ninety years old, and many light years away from any previously explored sectors of the galaxy_." He lowered his voice even more. "_She was on a mission as _bint Wakufunzi. _It did not occur to me that this experience might be similar in nature_."

The lieutenant commander showed his surprise openly, but his voice was also quieter when he spoke again. "_Ninety — even with the medical technology available to — surely we will not have advanced so far in the next sixty-two years that it would be common practice to send even a ko-fu t'Wakufunzi on such a mission_?"

Spock shook his head.

"_It was uncommon in the extreme, and I protested it, but as I had not recognized her as my k'diwa and t'hai'la, I had little recourse in stopping her_."

He could see the smile that threatened Wakufunzi's lips and instantly knew what the man was thinking. A quick glance at his young counterpart told him that all three were in accord.

"Not that she would have listened to me even if I _had_ already recognized our love," he added in Standard.

His apparently offhand acknowledgement of Nyota's strong will eased the charged atmosphere somewhat, even though none of them believed the words were offhand.

"It is that way with all Wakufunzi women," her uncle said. He looked at the younger Spock. "You would do well to remember that in the years to come, _mpwa_."

________________________

Commander Spock did not let either man see that he was both startled and pleased to hear Tabansi Wakufunzi call him "nephew." He still did not know what the future held for him and Nyota Uhura and, much like the woman herself, did not relish having his future decided for him. Still, her uncle's ostensible acceptance was unexpectedly agreeable. He had not expected it to matter.

It was not difficult to push aside his musing aside to focus on a more important topic, however.

"What do you believe this entity to be, Ambassador?" he asked his t'dahsu. "What was your Nyota's experience of it? And what is the significance of 'daughter of Wakufunzi'? You both use it as if it were a title."

He did not appreciate the looks that the two older men exchanged. When Wakufunzi nodded his head, an infinitesimal movement directed at his t'dahsu, Spock felt a band of tension release his body. His questions would be answered then.

"I will tell you what I know of the being that captured my Nyota," Ambassador Spock began, and held up a hand when the word "captured" caused both the commander and the minister to open their mouths to speak. "The entity captured her, yes, and it also saved her life. I will tell what I know of that encounter, and if he is willing, Minister Wakufunzi should be the one to answer your other question."

Spock forced himself to wait patiently while the older half-Vulcan described the events that led to his acknowledgement of his love for the Nyota Uhura of his time. He did not ask why, or how, a human woman of her age was taking part in a mission so far from the known worlds. He held firmly to the belief that his companions would answer his questions.

________________________

Tabansi Wakufunzi listened intently as Ambassador Spock's story unfolded. He carefully filed away his own questions, knowing that his turn to speak would come when the old man was finished and that the missing pieces of this puzzle were just as important to his tale as they were to that of this other Nyota Uhura.

He was relieved to learn that the sons and daughters of Wakufunzi were _not_ commonly expected to take on missions into their ninetieth decades in the ambassador's universe, but unsurprised that his niece had made herself the exception to the rule. He felt perspiration break out over his brow at the audible pain in the older man's voice when he spoke of believing his Nyota gone, and he almost sank with relief when Spock spoke of his joy at realizing she was alive and that he loved her.

"When I reached her at last," the half-Vulcan said, "she had been altered. Sons and daughters of Wakufunzi are offered longer lives than most humans, but she appeared to have lost more than three decades. She was as I knew her when she was fifty standard years old, at which time, of course, she appeared considerably younger than the average fifty-year old human woman. She has remained so ever since."

Wakufunzi nodded his head as Spock concluded his tale.

"I do not understand," the younger Spock told them both. "Why are the members of the Wakufunzi family afforded greater access to life-extending technology than other humans?"

Minister Wakufunzi turned his attention to his niece's erstwhile lover. It was time to tell his part of the story.

"It is not simply the members of my family who are given such access," he explained. "Bin Wakufunzi and bint Wakufunzi has meaning outside membership in the family, mpwa. Starfleet Intelligence considers us to be among their elite."

* * *

**A/U:** That's reboot!Uhura's secret revealed. It's also _one_ of TOS!Uhura's secrets.

Disclaimer: I still don't own 'em.


	23. What Was Told

Spock regarded Uhura's uncle with dark, intense eyes. "Are telling me that Nyota is a member of Starfleet Intelligence?"

He kept his voice low, although he knew that it was not sufficient defense against any hidden listening devices that might be secreted in the room.

Tabansi smiled without humor or warmth.

"It is safe to speak here," he assured him, immediately understanding Spock's concern. "Please don't tell me you are surprised, mpwa," he continued. "Surely you must have suspected? You must have realized someone would her talents would be nearly irresistible to SI."

The young Starfleet officer was comfortable enough in the presence of his companions to frown as he considered this new information.

"I was aware that they expressed an interest in her," he allowed, looking down at the smooth rose-colored floor. "I was never told she had accepted."

He did not see Minister Wakufunzi's expression soften. He did not observe Ambassador Spock's sad eyes.

"Anyone who was interested in recruiting during her time at the Academy would have been dissuaded. Even inside the Company, few know of us or about what we do. She would have told you, however," the minister told him, in a voice laced with compassion. "It is not something we are required to keep from our spouses."

Almost imperceptibly, Spock flinched. Tabansi, trained to understand body language as fluently as he understood spoken languages, and Ambassador Spock, his t'dahsu, noticed. Spock decided to against addressing the implications of the minister's last words.

"And you are also 'bin Wakufunzi'?" he asked without looking up.

"I am."

Abruptly, Spock turned and his eyes met the ambassador's.

"Were you also aware of these circumstances?" he demanded.

The elder Spock watched him as closely as he had stared at the Minister of Communications. His eyes bore into his counterpart's for several moments before he spoke. "I suspected things were as they were with my own Nyota," he admitted, "but had no confirmation until T'Pau approached your k'diwa. I knew she would not offer the gift of oblivion unless she had a desire to make use of Lt. Uhura."

Young Spock looked between the two men, his curiosity plain to see. When neither offered to explain further, he carefully considered the questions he wanted answered.

"I am neither bin Wakufunzi, nor mated to one of the bint Wakufunzi. Why are you telling me these things?" he asked first.

"You are Nyota's husband in every way but in the eyes of the Federation," Tabansi answered. "Even T'Pau recognizes you as her mate. Given the nature of your link, as Ambassador Spock has described it to me, SI would also consider you to be her spouse. And furthermore, given your accomplishments, your Vulcan integrity and your human sense of loyalty, if you choose to remain in Starfleet, I have been authorized to invite you into the fold."

This time, Spock's dispassionate expression did not alter.

"My continued tenure in Starfleet remains in question, Minister," he reminded Tabansi.

Uhura's uncle merely smiled at him.

At Spock's raised eyebrow, Ambassador Spock answered the unspoken question. "Your link to your Nyota, and your allegiance to her, are _not_ in question," he advised. "Even if you change your mind and accept T'Pau's help in forgetting, we believe that the link will remain."

"What is T'Pau's role in Starfleet Intelligence?" Spock asked his question.

Tabansi Wakufunzi's smile widened.

"Few would suspect that your ancestress, who so staunchly advocated Vulcan isolation, was our second in command," he said. "That is information that most of our operatives are not privy to."

Spock realized that he might not need to remain in Starfleet or to officially accept a position in Starfleet Intelligence. He suspected the decision had been made for him.

"Would I be correct in assuming that any members of your family who are officially affiliated with Starfleet are also bin Wakufunzi?" was Spock's final question.

"Most," Tabansi told him, "as well as many who have no affiliation with Starfleet at all."

* * *

Uhura felt the weight of six pairs of eyes on her. She didn't know what to expect of the Council now that her friends and most of family had been sent away. She had to force herself not to glance over to the austere Vulcan visage sitting on the extreme left of the dais. He was not samehk now; he was Councilor Sarek and she knew better than to look to him for support.

"Savensu Uhura," T'Pau began, "Starfleet lieutenant, communications specialist… ko-fu t'Wakufunzi, explain why you believe that allowing you to encounter this being again will not jeopardize your primary mission while you are assigned to this colony."

Shock lanced through her, but Uhura managed to suppress almost all outward expression of it. The other Councilors had not reacted to T'Pau's use of her other, more obscure, designation, she noted. By now, she had become adept enough at reading Vulcan faces to realize that either they were already aware of who and what she was, or that they had merely assumed that T'Pau was referring to her mother's family line. Neither idea was unreasonable.

Uhura paused to construct her response with care. The weight of the twelve eyes seemed to increase.

"I cannot explain this in logical terms, Councilor," she answered at last. "When I was enveloped in the entity, however, I felt at peace. The presence felt… benevolent, but curious. Once it appeared to recognize me, as I said before, it transmitted a feeling of satisfaction. I felt no malice. The being simply seemed… pleased to have found me."

Almost at once, she knew she had not won the High Council's favor. They needed more before they would risk their new Communications Minister's interim deputy.

"It stands to reason that had the entity wished to harm me, it could have done so before T'Dun's arrival," she pointed out. "It is non-corporeal. There is no reason to believe that we have the means to harm it, and I do not believe that it would have begun such an exploration of me had it had reason to fear me.

"However, if this being does intend me harm, we must consider the possibility that it might wish to harm any and all newcomers to this planet. My uncle as brought many qualified communications specialists with him to help him set up his training program. Some are nearly as qualified as I am to assist him in his long-term endeavors. That makes me expendable. You cannot say the same of any Vulcan. You are all needed for your rebuilding efforts."

She knew the moment four of the six Vulcans decided to grant her wish.

Sarek's eyes told her he did not agree with her expenability, but that he would not stand against her in this.

T'Pau's cold dark eyes were unreadable.

* * *

Thoughts and ideas raced through Spock's mind, intersecting at suddenly obvious points where he had previously seen no connection. Nyota's extraordinary capacity for learning languages, her ease in handling his telepathic ability and the affects it had on their relationship, her better than average skill at hand-to-hand combat — it coalesced into a clear kind of sense.

"Bin Wakufunzi begin training as children," he said. It was not a question.

Tabansi nodded. "We are gathers and preservers of information, but there are many ways to collect intelligence and nearly endless threats to protecting it. Wakufunzis must start learning early if we are to do what is expected of us. Nyota has been training since before she could walk. All of our children begin so young, although, in the end, not all of them answer the call. It will be the same with your children."

Spock blinked at the minister's continued assumption that he would resume his relationship with Nyota, but did not speak.

"Part of your training involves studying techniques for resisting telepathic… enquiries?" he asked instead.

Once again, his extrapolation was rewarded with Tabansi's smile. It was disconcerting to see Nyota's eyes in the older man, but Spock forbore not to let that show.

"All children of Wakufunzi who show the potential to join us are sent to Betazed for a period of time," the minister explained. "There we are taught to shield ourselves against the most powerful telepaths known to the Federation. Some of us are more adept than others. Nyota was particularly strong in that area."

The ambassador aimed a speaking look at the minister, who grimaced, the inhaled a deep breath. When he exhaled, his Wakufunzi eyes, the eyes he shared with Spock's k'diwa were unfocused and seemed to look inward.

"That is why, in part at least, T'Pau chose her to be your mate," he added.

"It was the same in my universe," the ambassador added. "I did not understand what was expected of me, and then events unfolded in such a way that my Nyota and I did not come together until we were somewhat free of T'Pau's influence. You are not so fortunate. And now that circumstances are so altered, we can no longer be certain of what she wants of you. Or of Nyota."

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I Know, I KNOW! This is super short, but honestly, bridging the gaps between the chapters I've already written has proven difficult. That means, I'll probably be inserting another chapter between this and Chapters 24 and 25 (which will hence be referred to as 25 and 26.) Also, if I gave any of you any hints via PM, forget about them. I'm notremoving anything, but I do have to add things.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything Star Trek.


	24. What Was Understood

The orders from Starfleet Command rankled, but Jim Kirk was officer enough by now to rein in his anger and frustration while agreeing to keep orbiting the still unnamed Vulcan colony.

"We're stuck," Kirk moaned as soon as he set foot in the doctor's dimly-lit quarters. "We're not even babysitting this time. They want us to tread water until they can decide on the next useless task can that only be accomplished by the god damned Starfleet flagship."

McCoy was silent as he poured Jim a glass of bourbon. The good stuff, this time. He didn't speak as he it over.

"This is getting ridiculous, Bones!" the captain bellowed, plopping down in a seat that matched the one occupied by the doctor, and knocking back slug in one motion. "Three fucking years and they still don't trust us to do anything important? Why the hell did they give me Enterprise if they didn't think I could handle it?"

The doctor eyed his friend over his own glass as he took a considerably more measured sip of the richly flavored liquor. He took his time, allowing the taste to roll over his tongue, the complex fragrance to dance across his olfactory epithelium. Only after a satisfying warmth had spread from his mouth to his belly did he even attempt to answer the young captain.

"Jim, damn it, you know they had to do _something_ to reward the crew that saved Earth and probably the whole damned Federation," he said. "But that don't mean they're gonna forget that probably almost none of us — except maybe Uhura and Spock — woulda actually been here if it wasn't for what happened to Vulcan. You still got to prove yourself. _All_ the rest of us do, well except maybe me, and Scotty, and probably the whiz kid, too. But that don't matter none, 'cause as long as you're captain, we're all gonna be taking that test with you."

Briefly, Kirk wondered how much Bones had had to drink before he'd joined him. It wasn't often that his Southern accent presented itself so… colorfully. But he knew his friend had the right of it. When it came down to it, the entire crew was being held back because Starfleet had made a political decision put Earth's heroes — including a young, untried captain — on its most prestigious ship. Until he could show command he was capable of being more than a one-hit wonder, everyone serving aboard the Enterprise was fucked right along with him.

"It's not fair, Bones," he groaned, taking another, smaller drink of his bourbon.

"Life ain't fair," McCoy replied, stretching his back and then settling more deeply into his old-fashioned synth-leather armchair. "Green-blooded hobgoblins get the girls then throw them away. Snot-nosed brats get the flagship then aren't allowed to use it. Handsome, brilliant doctors don't get a chance to display their genius. Life ain't fair, kid."

Kirk grimaced at the bald recitation of the injustices of their lives. "Do you think they'll get back together?" he asked.

McCoy shook his head, in confusion, not to indicate a negative. "I don't know, Jim," he admitted. "I don't see how, though, with her down there with them and him up here with us."

A small, fierce smile spread across Kirk's lips. That, at least, was one situation he could deal with. "I'm going to assign him to the surface for as long as we're in orbit," he told Bones.

McCoy waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever you say, Cupid."

Jim took a long drink.

* * *

The cold was threatening again, and this time there was no Nyota to hold it at bay. Spock was unsure that even her presence would alleviate the chill. A part of him feared having her near might exacerbate it.

"Nyota was… chosen for me?" The question was little more than a whisper, and barely a question at all. Directed at neither the ambassador nor the minister, it was more a testing of a hypothesis that he suddenly knew held the answer to several mysteries. "Where I saw love born of respectful acquaintance followed by friendship, someone… saw tool for a purpose I can only begin to comprehend."

Both of his companions heard the unspoken question, or accusation, in Spock's musings.

"She is not yet aware of T'Pau's hand in this, Spock," the ambassador said gently, his face freely expressing his compassion and concern. He reached a hand towards his t'dahsu, but fell short of actually touching the younger man.

"You are so sure of this?" he asked, his voice cool apparently dismissive of his counterpart's offer of sympathy and support. "You are convinced she was not complicit in whatever objective T'Pau meant to reach in bringing us together?"

"We are certain, mpwa," Tabansi replied, his voice equally steady and cool. "Spock and I decided she was not yet ready to know this. We did not wish to add to her pain while she continues to hurt over the loss of you.

"Or do you doubt her anguish? Do you believe her love for you is not real? Do you think her pain was not true? You have felt both for yourself, so perhaps you have insight that I lack."

Minister Wakufunzi's last words were a bitter condemnation, and Spock was shamed to hear the implication there. A minute drooping of his shoulders was the only outward sign of his discomfiture.

"I do not doubt her love," he breathed, "or the pain that I have caused her."

.

.

Ambassador Spock watched his t'dahsu struggle with the information he and Tabansi had imparted. Although the younger Vulcan admitted that he believed Nyota loved him, Spock knew him well enough — he was himself, after a fashion — to understand that love and pain did not necessarily mitigate the sense of betrayal. The morning had brought him hope; now he feared that what he and Nyota's uncle had revealed might prove to be an insurmountable setback.

"The years have taught me the value of embracing my emotions," he advised, "while not allowing them to cloud my reason. No Vulcan, or half-Vulcan, should be ruled only by what he feels, Spock. Too often, our feelings are in conflict with one another. You must learn to find the balance between emotion and logic, and allow yourself to be led by that balance."

He was not sure he had said enough. He was not certain the younger Vulcan would not think he had said too much. A glance at Tabansi Wakufunzi assured him he was not alone in not quite knowing where the boundary lay.

Both of them, he and Tabansi, Spock decided, would have to hold onto the hope that the younger Spock would choose the path to contentedness and peace.

* * *

Patience had been hard won for Nyota Uhura. She had dreamed of stars, reaching out to grasp them with infant hands even before she could articulate the word. Having words meant she could ask for what she wanted, so she learned to speak. It was not long before she understood she could not have everything she wanted. Patience had been hard won, but she had won it early.

Waiting for the Vulcan High Council to formally announce that she could proceed was easy compared to others things she had waited for: the stars, the Enterprise, Spock… She turned her mind away from thoughts of the half-Vulcan who continued to keep her waiting.

Sarek still watched her with an intensity she found somehow reassuring. It would have been easy to forget that this man had once not approved of her . Now, he was her only source of comfort in the room.

"You did not accept the assistance I offered to you," T'Pau said. "I am not certain that you made a wise decision. When Starfleet granted us your services, it was implicit to the arrangement that your assignment would be a relatively safe one. Would we not be remiss in our agreement if any harm came to you through this endeavor?"

Uhura swallowed and, before responding, again considered how should say what needed to be said . She might have won over the rest of the Council, but she did not know the full scope of T'Pau's influence. She didn't know if the old woman could turn the tide against her.

"I did not accept your assistance because I felt that it, however generously offered, would not be conducive to completing my assignment," she said, choosing her words with care. "While I am here, I am expected to do all that is within my power to advance the effort of providing effective and efficient communications across the planet. My personal needs or desires, as they will not affect my ability to carry out that mission, cannot take precedence over that. I made the wisest decision under the circumstances, Councilor.

"When I chose to become an officer of Starfleet, I knew that there was a probability that I would face many challenges in pursuit of my career. Some of those challenges may endanger my life. If any harm comes to me during the encounter, it will because I was fulfilling my purpose, and no blame can be assigned to the people of Vulcan."

T'Pau's steady look told Uhura she'd chosen the correct words. The old Vulcan glanced at each of her fellow Council members in turn. No one looked at the lone human standing before the dais as they conferred together in quiet voices.

Patience had been hard won for Nyota Uhura, but now it was a gift that allowed her to wait in silence for the answer she knew would come.

Several minutes of whispered conference passed before one of the members addressed her again.

"Savensu Uhura," Councilor Kudak, a contemporary of Sarek called out to her, "We agree that learning what the being is, or at least determining what its intentions might be, is vital to the building of our communications network, which is, it turn, vital to the settlement of the colony. If you remain agreeable to the terms Councilor Sarek has set for you, the High Council will raise no objection to you seeking another encounter with the entity."

Uhura inclined her head towards Kudak, and then met the eyes of each of the other Council members. She did not allow them to linger on either T'Pau or Sarek.

"I remain agreeable," she told her questioners.

Councilor Verdak spoke up before permission was officially granted. "There is another condition that must be met before we can allow this," he said

All heads turned to him.

"It is a human weakness to call upon loved ones to suffer together during times of difficulty," he continued. "However, we are allowing this, in part, because your mother's brother has arrived to continue the work you have begun. You must not induce him to travel with you to meet the entity."

Inwardly, Uhura bristled, though she managed not to show her reaction to the Council member's open xenophobia. Other members revealed their own consternation through nearly invisible tightening of eyes or thinning of lips. It seemed she was not the only one thinking of the Vulcan words expressing shared grief. _Tushah nash-veh k'du_.

"It was never my intention to ask my uncle to join me." Her calm rejoinder belied the anger roiling inside her. "Councilor Sarek already outlined his terms and explained why I must be accompanied. As Minister Wakufunzi does not have a _Vulcan's_ telepathic abilities, he would be unable to fulfill Sarek's stipulations to your satisfaction."

"We are finished here, then," T'Pau stated firmly. "We will make arrangements for you to return to the valley within the week. Begin preparing yourself, Savensu."

Uhura bowed slightly as the Council members rose and began filing out through a door set into a wall behind the dais.

.

Alone in the audience hall, Uhura did not let her guard down. She continued to stand while she awaited the attendant who would lead her back to the antechamber. Thoughts of Spock filled her mind.

_Was this what he endured_? she wondered. _Were these the attitudes that had driven him to turn his back on the Vulcan Science Academy for Starfleet?_

A rush of fellow-feeling and of love for the person who had broken her heart startled her for a moment. But then she accepted it for what it was. _Kaiidth_.

_I love you, _she had told him,_ but I can live without you_.

For the first time in her recollection, she actively reached through the link the elder Spock had assured her she shared with her erstwhile lover. She felt his presence touch her mind and her determination was buoyed. In that moment, she understood more fully than she had in the past that she did not _want_ to have to live without him. Surely his love sustained her as much as hers had done for him.

The quiet voice of the attendant broke through her thoughts. "Come with me, Savensu."

Uhura turned from the dais and walked towards the door.

.

.

"She comes," Spock told his companions.

Neither of his elder self, nor Nyota's uncle questioned how he knew.

It was a new feeling, somewhat startling, but more than pleasant, to sense Nyota seeking him in this way, relying on his strength to fortify her will. Although different from the ways in which he had offered support in the past, that she had need of him at all produced a familiar enough sense of protectiveness to let him push his anger aside for the moment. Warm pleasure — hers at being allowed in — pushed back the cold that had started in his belly, halting its slow assault of his body.

"The Council has agreed to her request and she will join us shortly."

All three turned towards the opening door.

.

.

Sarek stepped into the small antechamber where his sons waited with Uhura's uncle. There was a tension in the room he initially read as curiosity and concern about the fate of the woman they all cared for. It took only seconds for him to revise that opinion. Even the human man was making an admirable effort at displaying Vulcan-like control. Fear and worry were not the only things riding these three.

"She has been granted permission," Sarek told them, both to break the heavy silence—thirty years bonded to a human woman and many more as a diplomat had taught him that sometimes quiet was a dangerous thing — and to gauge their reactions to the news.

At first there was no reaction from any of the room's occupants. No flicker of surprise. No sigh of relief. No tiny tremble of apprehension.

Then, his son who not his son met his gaze and spoke.

"We were already aware, Sa-mekh. Nyota informed her k'diwa just before you entered."

Sarek's eyes found the younger Spock's face and he knew a moment's regret at seeing the stiff control bracing his son's features. Had he not insisted on Spock being more Vulcan than he was, perhaps… . Regret was illogical, yes, but Sarek knew that he owed his son an apology.

"Uhura… Nyota has spoken with you across your bond?" he asked. If this was so, perhaps some of the damage of his insistence could still be undone.

"No," Spock told him, dashing hopes that had barely begun to form. "She sought me through our… link." He directed his next words at Uhura's uncle. "Much like reaching out a hand to that of a child or a lover in need of comfort or of support, she reached for me and for my strength. I sensed no disappointment through the link; there was only satisfaction and some apprehension."

His son did not mention the love Sarek knew he also must have felt.

The door opened behind him and he turned to face his son's mate.

"Ko-fu," he greeted Uhura, "tonight you and your uncle will dine at my home with my sons and me. We have much to discuss."

Sarek led the way out of the room and did not see Tabansi Wakufunzi's eyebrows rise at hearing the sitting Vulcan ambassador call his niece "daughter."

* * *

Bones watched Kirk fumble a communicator out of his pocket, and stifled a laugh. He wasn't feeling particularly humorous anyway.

The kid was right, of course. Starfleet Command was screwing them over. The crew of the Enterprise was capable of much more than they'd been given credit for.

Still, Leonard McCoy wasn't quite ready to stop orbiting the Vulcan colony. Two of his mates had unfinished business; he hated unfinished business.

"You know," he called over to Jim, "that cold-hearted, pointy-eared shit-for-brains actually loves her. That's what makes it so hard, kid. He ain't cold-hearted, after all. He'd actually be a good kid, if pull his damned head out of his ass. And the stick, while he's at it."

Kirk stopped playing with the communicator and glanced up at his friend.

"The thing is, Jim," McCoy told him, "I'm not sure he realized what he'd be losing. When he came to me that time, all bent outta shape after _you_ laid the bad news on him with such a gentle hand, he thought he might actually be physically ill. But the time old him decided I should have a chat with him, the boy looked petrified, Jim. I don't know how many other people woulda seen it — maybe it takes a man who's lost just about everything to recognize another man terrified of losing everything — but it was there. He knows what he's giving up and he's scared."

Jim Kirk stared at the ship's doctor for a long moment before his eyes dropped back down to the communicator.

"Kirk to Spock," he said into it.

* * *

"I cannot be the one," Commander Spock informed them over the dinner table. "The captain has ordered me to remain on the surface until we receive new orders, but I must be able to leave at a moments notice."

Ambassador Spock did not miss the sad eyes he cast on Uhura's down-turned head.

"Sa-mekh," the ambassador said, "I believe it must be you. I am too much of what he is to take the risk. It should be you."

The elder Spock ignored Nyota's sharp glance as he continued to watch for a reaction from Sarek. Finally, his father nodded.

"Yes," the Vulcan agreed with him. Then, addressing the whole group, he continued. "I shall accompany Nyota into the valley."

Nyota looked between the two ambassadors, her face an open mask of confusion.

"I don't understand," she told them. She steadied her look on the elder Spock. "Why can't it be you?"

Spock held her gaze, but was aware of his other companions' interest.

"In order to maintain contact with you while you meet with the entity, it would be best if you are telepathically linked to one of us," he explained. "If your k'diwa was able to attend, the matter would be simple; the two of you are already linked, so nothing, or little, more would need to be done.

"But neither my father nor I share such a link with you. We would have to initiate a meld — a form of bonding meld — one that would be much deeper than the one we shared the night I told you not to give up on my t'dahsu." At this, he felt his counterpart's hot gaze on him, but he ignored that as well. "I will not go deeper into your mind, or allow you more deeply into mine because your similarity to my k'diwa and my similarity to yours could cause us to form a marriage bond during the meld. I will not risk that.

"There is another way, however. It is rarely used, and few know of it. My father has already accepted you as a daughter. There is a ceremony, and a bonding, for formally adopting a non-relative into one's house. With our matriarch's approval, Sarek can make you S'chn T'gai. You will share a father-daughter bond with him, and he will be able to watch over you. "

Spock saw the dawning implications of what he said play with Nyota's beautiful features.

"T'Pau will…" she began, only to trail off.

"She has, in at least two incarnations, chosen you against the mate I chose for my son," Sarek said when she did not continue. "It would be illogical for her to oppose this now. Even if she no longer deems you an appropriate match for Spock, you remain bint Wakufunzi."

Four pairs of eyes snapped over to him, though no one questioned how he had known.

"Ambassadors benefit from intelligence-gathering, as well," he replied anyway.

* * *

Her new quarters in the residential wing of the Hall of Welcome were even smaller than the ones waiting for her back on the Enterprise. The bed was also small, meant only for one person, or for two people who craved close proximity. He craved her proximity and pulled her close as soon as she slid in next to him.

"You're angry with me," she whispered while settling into his arms . "I can feel it all around me. You don't want to be, but you are."

"You did not tell me that you were bint Wakufunzi, or even what that means," he pointed out, and tucked his chin into the crook of her neck. "You did not tell me that our children would be expected to be the same."

"I would have told you, Spock," she countered, reaching back to stroke one of his ears. "I would have _had_ to tell you, eventually, but I already wanted to. You had a right to know, and I wanted you to know. I was waiting until I knew you were as sure of us as I was. I was waiting until you trusted my decision to be with you."

Her argument made sense. He knew he had never properly conveyed his belief in her commitment to him. And then his planet had been destroyed, and he _could_ not.

"And as for our children, we don't even know that we would have had any. But if we did, we'd decide together," she asserted. "They would be _our_ children first, members of my family second. I don't care what is 'always is done.' We would have decided together."

He knew that a response was required of him, but was unsure what would be proper. He believed her. His Nyota would not have kept something like that from him once he had formally asked her to share his life. And yet, there was so much that neither he nor she had been aware of.

"You did not know that you had been chosen for me," he countered, "and yet you were willing to give yourself to me. That is not reassuring."

"Just because the motives were wrong doesn't mean the end result was," she said reasonably. "I didn't know T'Pau wanted me with you, and I _still_ don't know why she did. But I know it's right for me to be with you. You know it's right, too."

Spock was not ready to admit to that.

"I know you profess such a belief," he said.

"You still don't trust me, and that really hurts!" She pulled free of his arms and tried to move to the edge of the tiny bed, away from him.

"It is not you that I do not trust, Nyota," he said, drawing her back against his chest. "It is the way we came to be together, and why. I do not wish to be party to a plan I do not understand. I do not wish it for you or for our children, either."

He felt her tremble at this second mention of their children.

"Does it matter why we came together?" she asked him. "If you believe our love is real and strong, if you don't doubt that, why does the _how_ of things matter at all? She can't make us do anything we don't want to do for her. Yes, she might have wished to take advantage of what you are, of what I am, but she can't make us be anything we aren't already."

Spock almost wanted to smile as the fierce conviction behind his beloved's words.

"We have no guarantee that she will not attempt to make use of us," he whispered into her hair.

Nyota sighed heavily and turned in his arms so that she was facing him.

"I won't let her," she promised, but Spock could hear a plea, as well. "I'll protect you. And you'll protect me. And we'll both protect our babies."

He cupped the back of her head, sliding his fingers through the short curls there, and pushed his forehead into hers.

"I know you would _try_, beloved," he murmured, hating the new hurt he was delivering.

Her disappointment, flowing through the link, was nearly crushing. He cradled her body against his and tried to send comfort and peace back to her, although he knew it was not enough.

Eventually, she succumbed to her long day and to his warm skin on hers, and slept.

* * *

**A/N:** Normally, I would have taken a chapter like this one and broken it up into more pieces. But, everything is so connected, and it's already been edited to within an inch of its life and _so_ much had to be rewritten because my brilliant readers at lj guessed some stuff too soon, so I'm apologizing if anyone is overwhelmed by the shifting minds or there are an egregious errors.

Oh, and as I told the lj folk - I hope to have Chapter 30 aka, the final chapter, up by my birthday (October 25), but that means putting up a chapter a day and I'm STILL rewriting everything. Cross your fingers for me that I can revise in time.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, and that's a shame!


	25. What Became

Spock was not often in the company of his beloved in the days that followed the Council's decision. She was occupied with apprising her uncle's staff of her the progress her students had made in the time she had been teaching them on her own, while continuing to design and teach several of the classes; and, although he did not have any official duties while he was assigned to remain on the surface, he took advantage of the unexpected opportunity and consulted with the handful of survivors who were tasked with reinstating the Vulcan Science Academy. Although the feeling was unVulcan-like, he acknowledged that he was gratified to see that they benefited from his counsel. But even that was not enough to stop him wishing that he had more time with Nyota.

Reminders of her came at unexpected times and from unexpected sources. During a conversation with one of the Science Academy he remarked on a new course on post-apocalyptic societal response and rehabilitation theory that struck him as decidedly unVulcan.

.

"The course has its origins in a study published by a Terran xenopsychiatrist," Zydek explained. "Dr. Benjamin Uhura is well known for having produced several such papers over the past twenty-five years. I believe you are acquainted with him. Our new Communications Minister is the younger brother his adun'a and your shipmate is their daughter." Spock read the unspoken "as well your mate" in the dean's averted eyes.

"Indeed, it was through your t'dahsu and your father that we first became aware of his work," Zydek continued, displaying what almost passed for enthusiasm in a Vulcan. "We have found that even by Vulcan standards, Dr. Uhura has proven sufficiently logical in his analyses. It is a wonder that he chose xenopsychiatry as his primary field of concentration. He would have made an adequate sociologist or anthropologist."

Spock nodded. "I have met Dr. Uhura on several occasions, and find your assessment of his capabilities to be accurate," he said. "However, I have also found him to be a man whose interest in understanding the minds of those alien to him to encompasses a broader spectrum than his fellows in his field. He already is, in my estimation, an anthropologist and a sociologist."

.

They rarely shared meals — she had taken to joining her fellow instructors when breaking her fast, and evening meals were usually spent with her uncle. Aside from a midday meal one day and a few late night snacks in her quarters, he had been denied the pleasure of seeing her face across a table.

It was only at night, within the confines of her narrow bed, his arms holding her cool body captive, that he felt she was fully with him. They were a gift, he knew, these times lying next to her, listening to her breathe while she slept.

He did not question why she had allowed him to follow her to the small room that first night, or why she continued to let him find his rest there. They never discussed it, although both were aware that he would have been welcome in either his father's or his t'dahsu's home.

Neither said anything about what they were doing; neither wanted anything to mar however much time they had left together.

But the first morning had been difficult.

.

_She had stirred against him, only awake enough to brush her lips against the column of his throat. He had stilled without stiffening his body, not wishing her to wake and retreat. As smoothly and evenly as he could manage, he had pulled her closer, ghosting a hand beneath her sleep shirt to stroke the smooth skin of her back._

_Listening to her sigh, and feeling her content through their link, he had longed to ignite the passion he could sense pooling just beneath its surface. It had been a long time since her lips had moved against his in desire. It had been too long since he had been enveloped in her warm, wet heat. Heat even the Vulcan in him could sense._

_She had smiled against his neck and pressed her hips into his. "That's unfair, Spock." Her soft murmur had been amused, and she had shifted, teasing his growing erection. But in other moments like these, ones he feared they might never repeat, she had called him _k'diwa. _He had never been "Spock" during love play._

_The omission had been deliberate. Her need to distance herself had translated clearly through the link._

"_It is less unfair than what you are doing, beloved," he had responded without attempting to hide the annoyance he still felt over the revelations from the day before. "You offer what you have no intention of giving. You do not say all that you mean, just as you have hidden truths that you should have shared."_

_At that _she_ had been the one to stiffen. "You know something of hiding truths, Spock," she had told him. _

_He had known she was referring to the two years he had waited before telling her that he would eventually be joining the colony, leaving her, their relationship, behind. Shame over the hurt he had caused her had blended with his current annoyance and frustration into something resembling anger. That had flowed through the link as well, but she had not moved out of his arms._

_They both had risen in time for her to prepare for her day of teaching teachers and handing over students. Neither had mentioned what had transpired in the early hours of the morning. Neither of them had wanted to mar what little time they might have left together. _

.

He had not lied about his reason for declining to join her encounter with the presence, but he was still afraid for her to go without him. Even if she became bonded into the S'chn T'gai family, he mused, it might not be enough to ensure they remained aware of her condition during the meeting. Familial bonds were not as intense as those that existed between mates.

But his ongoing internal conflicts made it impossible for him to offer her anything more. Had holding her every night, burning the memory of her into his flesh, not proved to be a sufficient bolster to his faltering resolve, guilt over that knowledge might have been his undoing.

* * *

"I'm scared, Spock," she admitted three days after she'd first slept in her new quarters. "I mean, I don't really think that anything bad is going to happen, but I'm afraid that if it does… I don't want him to be alone. I'm not sure what will happen to him if… ."

Uhura wasn't pleased with her behavior for the past few days. She was one of the best communications officers in Starfleet, able to keep her cool, take in and disseminate vital information in any number of dire situations. Among the men of S'chn T'gai, she'd lately seemed incapable of completing her sentences on a regular basis.

The ambassador folded her hands into his larger ones. She had known as soon as she had received the invitation to lunch in his home that he'd suspected her need to talk to someone other than her uncle, and had gratefully accepted. The meal was over, but there was no pressing need for her to return to the Hall of Welcome or to the training facility.

"He is stronger than you give him credit for, Nyota," he said, but his tone, almost devoid of Vulcan stoicism, was less than reassuring. "More importantly, he has many here who would support him if you were lost to him."

She basked in the comfort that poured through the link, if not his words, and squeezed his hand. Not bothering to hide her doubts, she looked into the eyes of her love's t'dahsu.

"I want you to do something for me," she said, her voice grave. Spock's answering squeeze boosted her courage. "If anything happens to me, or even if it doesn't, I want you to suggest that he spend time with T'Dun."

When he opened his mouth to respond, she cut him off. "I know right now he's not in the best state of mind to listen to anyone playing match-maker — not now that we know about T'Pau — but I think T'Dun, or someone like her — if such a woman exists — would be the best choice for him. She's the closest thing I have to a woman friend here, Spock. And she accepts me for who I am and as what I am. She doesn't think humans are inferior, either. She might be able to give him what he needs if he can't find that with me."

Spock was quiet for a time, but he did not shield his emotions from her as he weighed what she had to say. So she was unsurprised when he pulled her close to him and let go of her hand to wrap his arms around her.

"Perhaps," he murmured into her hair, "_I_ should consider this paragon as a potential wife for myself."

Uhura pulled back enough to reach up and hold the ambassador's face in her hands. She rose up on her toes and placed a soft, almost chaste kiss against his gorgeous mouth.

"Oh, Spock," she said, smiling. "I couldn't let her have, _you_, too."

They both laughed quietly at her small joke, and then Spock tightened the embrace once again.

"I will watch out for him," he promised her.

.

.

Spock felt the tension begin to seep out of her slender form, but the link also told him that another disturbance still plagued her.

"I'm still so pissed with him," she said before he could question her. She did not move her head from his chest. "I want him there with me. I know that makes me sound weak, though I'm not — you _know_ I'm not, but knowing that doesn't stop me wanting it. It makes me so angry that he won't go. Especially since it's probably because he's still afraid to bond with me. Just like you can't risk it, he _won't_ risk it. Even though I know it's what he really wants."

He did not contradict her, although he suspected the situation was more complicated than she reasoned it to be. His t'dahsu _was_ afraid to bond with her, he knew, but more than that was keeping him from initiating a deeper meld with his k'diwa. Spock had no wish to reopen fresh wounds by reminding her that his young counterpart remained hesitant to trust the genesis of their relationship.

"I will not tell you to hold back you anger, Nyota," he told her. "He is holding fast to logic to the detriment of both his and your own well-being. He deserves your love. But, as I told him, do not let this cloud your reason. I still believe you belong with him, and he with you. It is clear that you believe this as well. Do not give up on him yet."

* * *

Sarek had not expected T'Pau's capitulation to come so easily, but was grateful and filed away his questions for a later time. He had already lost three days of preparation and did not wish to lose any more. Even though she had long been linked to Spock, he wanted Nyota to have time to become accustomed to the family bond.

He summoned his sons, the Minister of Communications and the human man's niece to his house for the evening meal. None of them, he knew, would be put out once they ascertained the purpose of the meeting.

When all were assembled at his dining table, but before the any of the fragrant dishes had been uncovered, he made his announcement.

"Tonight, we will join S'chn T'gai to Wakufunzi and Uhura," he said. His eyes settled on the woman his son had loved across two universes. "Ko-fu, T'Pau has given her approval."

.

.

Uhura had expected an elaborate ceremony, something like the wedding ceremony the elder Spock had shown her once during a mild mind touch. Instead, there was just a meld with Sarek — deeper than anything she'd ever experienced with either Spock, but at the same time somehow not nearly as intimate.

It was over in minutes, and immediately after she could feel a new sense of belonging surrounding her, moving through her.

She was aware of Sarek, and his affection for her, in a way she had been unable to comprehend before.

She found herself wondering how Spock had not known he had his father's love and always had. But then she found the elder Spock in the bond — his own regard for her, while pale in comparison to what he had shown her of his love of his own Nyota, was like a soothing blanket able to block out the harshness of the world beyond — and, distracted, she brushed away the thought, deciding that the bond was too deeply embedded in her k'diwa for him to recognize the nuances of his father's feelings towards him.

Last, there was her Spock. And he was undeniably _her_ Spock, now.

She knew the moment he became aware of the change in their link. He felt it strengthen as she did. She told herself it was not dismay she saw in his eyes as the familial bond resolved itself into something entirely different between the two of them.

* * *

**A/N:** Eeek! This is up hours later than I intended, but it's got everything I wanted to say and then some. Yay me! At this rate, I might actually be able to have a guilt free b-day.

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em, but at this point, I really, really wish I did!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.


	26. As We Were and May Be

Spock stood in the center of Nyota's quarters, watching her preparations for the second visit to the valley. The trip out would not be long, but she had begun checking equipment and packing it away long before her scheduled sunset departure time.

"What are your plans for the rest of today?" she asked him, glancing over her shoulder as she placed a newly recalibrated tricorder in her carry bag.

"I did not bring sufficient clothing or toiletries with me when I returned to the surface the night of the reception," he said. "I will beam up to the Enterprise to replenish my supplies — as I am not on duty, I shall bring back civilian attire — and while I am there, I will also retrieve several papers I believe the administrators at the Science Academy might find illuminating. I expect to be back on the surface before you return in the morning."

He refused to say "_if_ you return." Nyota heard it anyway.

She turned from her task and walked over to where he stood. Slipping her arms around his middle, she pushed her face into the crook of his neck. "Don't worry about me, k'diwa," she whispered.

Spock decided the endearment, missing from her lips for so long, gave him license to express himself more freely than he had felt able to in months.

Pushing her back slightly, he brought his hands to rest against her cheeks. "Do not ask the impossible of me, Nyota," he ordered softly.

Before she could answer — before she could react at all — he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers.

.

.

Kirk stood in the main transporter room, his handsome face already set into a frown. He glanced to his side where McCoy examined his fingernails in feigned boredom.

"You really don't need to be here, Bones," he assured his CMO.

McCoy tsked at him without looking up. "Someone's gotta be ready to piece you back together is you piss the Vulcan off again."

Kirk stared ahead at the transporter pads and unconsciously clenched his fists. He missed his friend's minute head shake.

"I ordered him to remain on the planet," Jim said. "This is no more than he should logically expect for disobeying a direct order."

McCoy sighed. "You ordered him to join Miz Uhura at the hip," he corrected. "I'm sure he'll come up with a logical reason why he's not really disobeying orders."

"Not one that I'll accept, Bones. I'm sick of dealing with his shit."

"Look, Jim," the doctor said, placing a hand on his friend's forearm. "Until you've been in love — and I'm talking _really_ in love, maybe you don't want to judge him too —"

The conversation ended when they heard Spock's measured voice over the comm requesting the beam up he'd applied for earlier. Kirk turned to nod at the technician standing at the console across the room.

Seconds later, he watched as a tall form began to materialize. As soon as his first officer was fully present, Kirk strode forward.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he barked.

Spock raised an eyebrow and stepped down from his pad. "I am picking up additional clothing and picking up several papers which may be of interest to the remaining members of the Vulcan Science Academy, Captain."

The matter-of-fact response added fuel to the fire of Kirk's anger.

"I believe, Mr. Spock," he said, trying to imitate the half-Vulcan's customarily cool tones, "that I told you to remain planetside until we receive word of our new assignment."

McCoy made exaggerated eyes towards the technician standing behind them, taking it all in. Kirk took the hint and headed towards the exit.

"Walk with me, Commander," he ordered, even though Spock was already moving along beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the doctor trailing behind them. "Bones, I don't —."

"Right behind you, Jim," McCoy said as he double-timed it to join the other two.

Kirk decided to ignore his friend ignoring his true intentions. It was easier to give in than it would be keep trying to get rid of him.

The trio reached Spock's office in the main science lab a short time later. As soon as the door swooshed shut and Spock had started sorting through data slips stored in a high cabinet over his desk, Kirk dropped the guise of calm he had just barely held onto as they'd traversed the ship's corridors.

"Computer, engage soundproofing and lock door," he snapped. While McCoy dropped into a seat near the door, Jim moved across the office until he was standing directly behind Spock. "Now, perhaps this time you are prepared to give me a more satisfactory answer," he said, this time adopting Spock speech patterns without realizing it. "Why the hell are you here instead of on the surface as I ordered you to be?"

Spock turned to him, his face a placid mask.

"Sir, as I informed you earlier, I was in need of more clothing and I wished to share research with several deans at the Science Academy," he said reasonably. "As I believed the spirit of your orders were that I should remain in the company of Lt. Uhura, I did not believe that you would object me returning to the ship at a time when she is unavailable to me."

Kirk's mouth hung open for a moment or two as he scrambled to formulate a response to Spock's unexpected explanation. He hadn't thought his orders had been so transparent. That is to say, he hadn't credited his first officer with enough perception to realize what he'd intended. Then he hit on an apparent discrepancy in Spock's story.

"She doesn't teach classes at night, Spock," he pointed out.

Spock selected a PADD and more than a dozen data slips, then returned the rest to their cabinet before responding.

"No," he said. "She does not. However, she typically takes her evening meal with her uncle. The two dine alone, as they are still becoming reacquainted and, additionally, often must discuss several aspects of the training program they continued to adapt for Vulcan students." He moved across the room to pick up several pieces of equipment and carry them back to his desk.

"Ordinarily, I would be uncertain if the evening meal would last long enough for me to complete my tasks here before the lieutenant again became available, so I have not attempted to return before now," he continued as he stashed a PADD, data slips and the equipment in a small flat bag. "Tonight, however, Lt. Uhura is on a mission with Ambassador Sarek and is not expected to return before morning. I chose to take this opportunity to complete the errands I have outlined."

Kirk eyed him suspiciously.

"What exactly is this mission that she's on with you dad?"

Spock hesitated for a moment. "Captain, I am unsure of how much you and Dr. McCoy know of the work Lt. Uhura has performed since Starfleet Command," he said after the miniscule pause. "As part of her effort to determine why previous attempts to install the communications grid have failed, she led a team out into a valley where those failures were first noted. She and my father returned to that valley this evening."

Jim felt his face go red as rage and fear began to war within him. "You mean she and your father went to investigate that whatever-the-hell-it-was presence that nearly sucked her up the last time, and You. Came. Here?"

He saw the half-Vulcan's shoulders stiffened infinitesimally. Kirk realized Spock hadn't known he knew about the entity.

"My presence was not required. The lieutenant has been adopted into my family and Sarek, acting as a father, will monitor her interactions with the entity by utilizing the family bond. My presence would have been superfluous, and possibly confusing."

"Confusing for who? You? Why the hell isn't you down there with her instead of Sarek?" Kirk was shouting now, but he didn't care. "What if something happens? Don't give me any of that 'regret is illogical' Vulcan bullshit. If she doesn't make it out of this, you're going to regret not being there for her. For the rest of your life," he said, eyes burning with fury.

"Captain," Spock's began, his voice somehow dispassionate and dangerous at the same time, "I have never advised you on how to proceed in your romantic relationships. I must ask that you do not instruct me how to conduct mine."

"I'm not telling how to live your love life. I just don't watch make the biggest fuck-up ever."

"I assure you, Captain," Spock said evenly, "I have already experienced my 'biggest fuck-up ever.'"

Kirk winced at the unsubtle reference to the other man's failure to save his mother as the Vulcan homeworld was sucked into itself. He decided to change tack.

"Spock, stop being so stubborn," Kirk quietly pleaded, holding up his hands in feeble frustration. "If you can't do it for yourself — if you think you don't deserve to be happy — then think about her. Don't do this to her. She loves you and doesn't deserve to have her heart ripped to shreds."

"I appreciate your concern, Jim," Spock told him. Kirk wasn't sure that he imagined the softening in the half-human's eyes. "Lt. Uhura is a strong woman who is more than equal to facing and moving beyond many of the every day tribulations that she will face in her life."

"Bullshit," Kirk told him. "Human women say shit like that because they spent centuries getting treated like they were weak and helpless. So the smart ones and the tough ones try to show how strong and independent they are, but Bones here will tell you that _none_ of us — man or woman — is always strong or completely independent. Uhura is tough and smart, so she's probably got it worse than others. She's as stubborn as you are."

"No _quite_ as stubborn, I'm sure she would tell you, Captain," Spock remarked almost flippantly. "She has, however, assured me that she can and will continue to survive even if I am no longer a factor in her life."

Kirk turned, ordered the door unlocked and stalked out of the office.

.

Ten minutes later, he was sitting in Bones's quarters, staring into a glass of bourbon he wasn't quite ready to drink.

"The _one_ way Command hasn't fucked the Enterprise over is with this crew," he spat. "If we end up losing the best communications officer Starfleet has to offer, just because that selfish bastard can't pull his pointy-eared head out of his ass long enough to see what's right in front of his god damned eyes, you might get a chance to see round two and, this time, I'll be the one wiping the floor with _him_!"

McCoy eyed his captain with something halfway between amusement and commiseration. "No offense, Jim," he said, "but I wouldn't lay any bets on you in that fight. Then again, maybe the odds'll be more even since you'll be the one who's 'emotionally compromised' this time around. Still, gotta wonder what it'll be like having Spock as captain."

He leaned forward and stared hard at his current captain. "Look, Jim. I understand this is about more than losing Miz Uhura. I care about them, too. Though, if you go spreading that around I guarantee your next physical will get done the old fashioned way. But you're captain of this ol' tin can, so you're allowed to care. You're _supposed_ to care. You just gotta remember that caring doesn't give you license to make all their choices for them."

"This isn't right, Bones, and you know it! Hell, _every_body knows it except Spock."

McCoy pulled his medical tricorder from his side and began waving it through the air around Jim's head.

"What are you _doing_?" the younger man demanded.

"Well, for the past six minutes I've been a little worried that I've been listening to myself talk out of your lips," the doctor retorted. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't get a brain transplant behind my back. Should probably check out my own head while I'm at it, though. You pointed it out yourself; I was actually _defending_ that overgrown elf back there."

Jim scowled and folded his arms over his chest. He glared at the doctor until his customary good nature reasserted itself, and found him lips twitching into a rueful, if small, smile.

"You know I'm right," he grumbled, but the tone was forced. "It's just — damn it, Bones, I don't think he realizes she needs him as much as he needs her." He snorted. "'Lt. Uhura has assured me that she can and will continue to survive, even if I am no longer a factor in her life.' Who the hell is he kidding? I thought Vulcans didn't lie. He doesn't seem to be having any trouble lying to himself."

Bones just smirked at him and shook his head.

.

.

He had not lied to the captain. Simply refraining from telling the entire truth on a matter that should have of no concern to Jim Kirk was something with which even the most unbendingly traditional of his father's people could not find fault.

_Unbendingly traditional_.

The thought stopped Spock's hands as they reached for another pair of loose pants.

From the moment he had internalized Sarek's desire for him to live as a Vulcan, Spock had revered the strictures — the rules and traditions — that had saved his race from the chaos of their cultural past. While at times he had spurned the repercussions of those practices, as interpreted by some individuals, in his own life, there had never been a time when he had spurned the traditions themselves. Until now, apparently.

He picked up the pants and placed them in his duffle beside the shirts and other pairs he had already packed. Last, he placed several PADDs he had personally modified on top of his clothing and sealed his small duffle.

Although it had been his intention to remain on the ship for the majority of the evening, when he left his quarters, he headed towards the nearest transporter room instead of the main science lab.

He did not wish to keep Nyota waiting.

* * *

The desert was just beginning to let go of its hoarded heat when Uhura, Sarek and T'Dun approached the site of the previous encounter with the entity. The healer remained in the hover vehicle.

Uhura cast a sidelong glance at the ambassador and had to suppress a grin at his simple traveling clothes and sturdy equipment pack. Her action was unnecessary as he sensed her amusement through the bond.

"I completed my kahs'wan as well as the Rite of Tal'oth, ko-fu," he told her. "I was not always a diplomat in flowing robes."

She smiled fully as rush of affection for her surrogate fathers washed through her. Sarek's words were reminiscent of Benjamin Uhura's rare "I was young once" quips.

T'Dun inclined her head in question at the interplay between the two, and Uhura offered her a slightly more restrained smile.

"Am I to understand that this is a human bonding ritual?" the Vulcan woman asked.

Sobering somewhat, Uhura nodded.

"It many human cultures, it is a way for parents to remind their offspring that they have already had many of the experiences that the offspring can expect to face in the future. It is not uncommon for an adolescent human to complain to his or her parent that the parent 'does not understand,'" she explained. "By using anecdotes, sometimes accompanied by humorous language, the parent can attempt to address the adolescent in a way that does not further alienate their offspring during a time that is already difficult as hormonal changes and a growing desire for independence causes the offspring to attempt to move away from parental influence."

She wasn't sure that T'Dun had understood her long-winded explanation until her friend asked a second question.

"And are parents often successful in these endeavors?" she wanted to know.

Uhura laughed. "No," she admitted. "It usually is a great challenge to reason with a human in grips of puberty. The attempt, however, shows that the parent is committed to preparing the offspring for life's challenges. Sometimes, the results are immediately favorable, but that is rare. Eventually, though, usually once the fog of hormonal overload has dissipated, the offspring will learn to appreciate what the parent was trying to teach."

"It seems that there is a challenge in simply enduring one's own humanity," T'Dun remarked.

"Indeed, there is," Uhura agreed then mentally prepared to move away from past challenges to the new one she hoped to face shortly. She turned to Sarek. "Sa-mekh, I believe that I must go the rest of the way on my own."

His reluctance, as well as his acceptance, slipped through the bond even before he nodded acquiescence.

"T'Dun and I will remain here, monitoring you and the surrounding area," he told her.

She moved forward in the darkness, until some previously unknown sense told her she had reached her destination.

It didn't take long. Minutes after she halted because the surface under her feet _felt right_, light began gather to her left. No single tendril pulled away from the glowing mass this time. Instead, she was enveloped in the whole luminous cloud. The feeling of all encompassing peace filled her once more even as the presence probed deeper than it had the first time.

Again she felt its

_recognition_

_curiosity_

but now surprise had become

_resignation_ and

pleasure and satisfaction were replaced with

_worry_ and _frustration_.

She could still perceive Sarek's concerned presence, though fainter now, at the back of her mind. Reaching through the bond, she sent his assurances of her continued well-being.

The entity slipped through her mind, testing connections, learning pathways. Its actions became increasingly clear and Uhura began to see that it was learning to communicate with her through something more concrete than abstract ideas and emotions.

The sound of many voices speaking as one filled her mind.

_You are one we have known before. One of two who are two of four. You are incomplete_, they told her. _Return to us when you whole again_.

The words could have been nonsensical, but she knew what was being said.

_I _was_ once one of two_, she told it. _We were once two of three, together with another who was once one of two but who is now alone. Now we are _all_ alone_.

_None of the four is alone_, the voices said. _None of the four is whole, but none is alone_. _Return to us when you are complete_.

Uhura gritted her teeth in frustration and tried to order her thoughts. How to explain?

_Three of two exist now_, she said. _One exists in a time that is not now_. _We cannot return as four_.

_We exists in all times and in none_, it countered. _You are one of two who are two of four, but incomplete. Return as two_.

And then the light was fading and the mist was dissipating around her.

She opened her eyes to see Sarek striding closer. When he stood before her, he did not speak.

"I am well, sa-mekh," she said aloud.

He nodded and glanced over to T'Dun before returning his gaze to her.

"Are you finished her, ko-fu?" he asked.

Uhura frowned.

"I cannot return until I am complete," she told him.

* * *

Tabansi Wakufunzi moved a piece on the chess board and carefully watched his companion's countermove. He sighed and quickly moved another piece of his own.

"Check," he told Ambassador Spock.

"You are distracted tonight," he observed when the ambassador failed to utilize a simple action that could have turned the tide of the game.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "And you are not?"

Tabansi slanted a smile at the older man. "Checkmate," he said. "As you have just lost to me for the first time since we began playing together, I would say that your distraction exceeds my own."

He began to reset the game while Spock sat in silence.

"I am worried about Nyota, of course," he admitted when his companion did not speak after they resumed play. "But I know that you would immediately be aware if anything were to harm her. As long as you continue to sit there, clear-eyed and merely distracted, I will take advantage and pleasure at being able to win against one of the greatest tri-level chess players in the known universe."

Spock shrugged off the inflated praise and paid more attention to the pieces on the board.

"Worry about Nyota's well-being is _not_ the source of my distraction," he told her uncle after they had been playing in silence for some time.

Tabansi stopped mid-move and raised both eyebrows. "Oh?"

Spock smiled at his opponent. "No," he said, and waved a hand for Tabansi to complete his move.

"So, what was that so distracted you earlier tonight, but has clearly left you able to reassert your grandmaster status for _this_ game?" Tabansi noticed that his move left Spock in position to mate him in six moves. And that there was nothing he could do now to correct his error.

The ambassador's second smile was larger than the first. "I have been thinking," he said, "about my own Nyota's experience with a similar entity. It was at that time, while I thought I had lost her, of course, but also at the same time that she encountered a luminous presence, that I realized that I was in love with her."

Tabansi's answering smile was equally wide.

* * *

**A/N:** Hopefully, everything in this chapter is self explanatory. Just four more after this, but reviews help me edit faster. They're the only way I get paid for this.

Disclaimer: Still haven't managed to gain ownership of anything Star Trek.


	27. Dawn

"So, you believe that your t'dahsu will 'see the light,' so to speak, once Nyota finds the entity?" Tabansi's smile stretched wider on his face. Visions of brown babies with pointed ears danced through his head. He would not be more proud of his second star's future children if they were to be his own grandchildren, he decided. He was too lost in his thoughts to realize that instead of answering him, Spock was wearing a faint, fond smile of his own, as he continued to plot his opponent's demise on the chessboard.

"Your move, Tabansi," Spock told him after nearly a minute had passed with the minister's concentration focused inward. "It is my _hope_ that before the night is over, he, like me, will come to realize what he has been so determined to give up."

Tabansi came out of his reverie with barely a start, studied the board and quickly chose a defensive move, although he knew any effort on his part was futile at this point. Another thought pricked his mind at that moment and he glanced across the board to study his companion.

"Nyota has already met this being once," he pointed out once Spock had taken his turn, leaving Tabansi now four moves from being checkmated. He didn't try to counter. "Spock did not come back to her, suddenly enlightened, after that first encounter. What gives you hope that this time will be any different?"

Spock moved another piece. Unexpectedly, it was not the one his companion had calculated he would use. Tabansi saw that now the game could end in only _two_ moves.

"He is still young," the half-human replied. "Spock has the benefit of already knowing that he loves Nyota, but lacks the life experience to comprehend how important that love will be to his well-being. He did not have the many decades with her that I had, to show him that she is essential to him."

Tabansi shook his head again, this time in half disbelief.

"One would think losing his mother and planet would have accelerated his acquisition of knowledge," he mused.

"He is not mature enough to realize what a gift time can be. Intellectually, he is aware that Nyota could be taken from the universe as abruptly and as unexpectedly as our mother was taken from him. Some part of him, however, continues to associate her with life, and does not fully accept that truth," Spock pointed out. Tabansi caught the momentary flicker of sadness in the pale, lined face. "Youth, as Mr. Shaw once said, is wasted on the young."

The communications minister decided a change in topic would be prudent. He also recognized that Spock would recognize his tactic for what it was, so he opted not to lead the conversation too far a field.

"If he does not come to his senses soon," he said companionably, "I do not doubt he will have opportunity to do so in the future. While I would never wish Nyota anymore pain than she has already experienced, she is a strong woman and she knows what she wants in life. My sister married into a family of warriors, though my brother-in-law is not obviously such. Their children all have the best of Wakufunzi and Uhura in them."

"Indeed," Spock said, inclining his head.

"Did you ever have an opportunity to meet Nyota's parents?" the human man inquired. "I know that my sister died before my niece joined your crew, but perhaps you met her in some other capacity. Benjamin, I understand, as still living when you met Nyota?"

"Indeed," he said again, "I met Ambassador Uhura at a diplomatic conference several years before Nyota was assigned to the Enterprise. It was due, in part, to my favorable opinion of your sister that her daughter was given the position of Chief Communications Officer. I did point out at the time that it would be illogical to judge the merits of the daughter based on the accomplishments of the mother. It was my good fortune that my attempts to instill logic on Captain Kirk and Starfleet Command's placement committee were ignored.

"I met Dr. Uhura on several occasions over the years of my friendship with Nyota. He and I developed an amiable, if somewhat distant, relationship. There are times when I believe he suspected what I did not come to know until many decades later."

Tabansi threw back his head and laughed, shaking his head. "That is Benjamin in this universe, as well. Quietly lurking, forming opinions, but only sharing them when asked, or when he thinks it would border on criminal to keep his thoughts to himself!"

A moment later, he sobered again.

"'Ambassador Uhura,'" he quoted. "I cannot help but wonder… had I not joined Starfleet in a more… public fashion, had Estella not been lost on the Kelvin, would M'Umbha have remained in the diplomatic corps? Would my little star be motherless today?"

He met Spock's eyes and saw pain there, at least as deep as what he imagined showed in his own. Immediately, he reached out and placed a finger on the back of the older man's hand. Touching a Vulcan, or even a half-Vulcan, without permission was taboo, he knew, but Spock — both of him — was Nyota's family, now. They were Tabansi's family, as well.

"It is not your fault, mpwa," he said quietly, lowering his mental shields to make sure his companion knew he meant what he said. "None of us can completely control the actions of others. In this universe, I lost my star; in yours, I lost my sister. In both, I have endured.*"

Spock did not move out of Tabansi's reach, but for a moment the minister thought he might. Instead the half-Vulcan smiled again and turned his hand so that one of his fingertips met the other man's.

At first the human was nearly as uncomfortable as a Vulcan might be with such contact, but then understanding dawned.

"She returns to us," he breathed.

* * *

The trip back to the city was completed mostly in silence. The human was lost in contemplation of what the entity had asked of her, and of what it could mean. The two Vulcans were content to give her the time to think. Except for a moment when she was aware that her foster father was sending assurances of her continued health throughout the familial bond, Uhura was alone in her head. The transport made little sound as it flew over the desert.

They had nearly reached their destination before she turned to her companions and assessed the composed Vulcan features. For the first time in longer than she could easily recall, she felt completely unable to glean any information from their faces.

"I am well," she said, echoing her comments from earlier. She lowered her shields to let the bond flow freely.

Sarek turned to her. "You have already assured me of that, ko-fu."

"At the time, I was referring to my physical state," she explained. "I was uncertain, then, of my mental condition. Some of things that the entity conveyed were... unsettling. I did not understand what it was demanding of me, and was unsure that I could comply. Now, I believe I can."

Sarek nodded. She sensed that although he wished to know more, he was willing to wait for the answers to his questions.

"T'Dun," she began, turning to the other woman, "what can you tell me of your readings when the entity enveloped tonight? Its approach was considerably more direct and seemingly deliberate than last time."

The Vulcan woman tilted her head to the side.

"The readings remained undisturbed, savensu," she replied. When Uhura nodded in satisfaction, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Am correct in thinking that this was the answer you were expecting?"

Uhura's lips thinned minutely. "Yes," she said. "I believe that the being believes that it is close to attaining whatever it is seeking. There is no longer a need for it to disrupt our equipment in order to make its presence known. There is no need to set a lure for me to seek it out."

Both Vulcans eyed her without speaking. She felt Sarek's concern as comprehension dawned.

* * *

Spock stood in Nyota's quarters, removing his clothing in preparation for bed. For what remained of the night, he would not bother to don sleeping pants and shirt. Neither would be necessary in the warmth of the colony planet.

He basked in relief at the knowledge that she was returning to him unscathed. He dismissed the thought that she was not returning to _him_ so much as she was returning to the city and to her assignment for the colony. Soon, she would be lying in his arms on the tiny bed, and semantics would not matter.

He folded his uniform carefully and stored the neat pile on a shelf in Nyota's small closet. With nothing left to do, he sat on the bed and waited for her to come through the door.

* * *

They bid T'Dun good-bye at the transport hangar with assurances that all three would meet to go over their official reports later in the day. Then Sarek escorted Uhura back to the Hall of Welcome. She still felt his light concern in the back of her mind, and wondered if all of the S'chn T'gai family was aware of it. Neither said a word as the walked.

"Ko-fu," he said, stopping her as they reached the massive stairs leading into the Hall. "If there is something you wish to tell me, something you will not include in your official report, please understand that I will respect your privacy, as long as doing so will not harm what remains of the Vulcan people."

Uhura allowed herself a small smile. This was not the austere, disapproving man she had met when Spock first announced his intentions of breaking the bond with T'Pring.

"There is nothing I have not already told you, samehk," she assured him. "I do not believe the entity will obstruct us further as long as I return to it… completed."

Sarek's intense stare and continuing stream of concern through the bond told her she needed to say more.

"I will find a way to convince him to return with me," she promised. "He is still displeased that I did not tell him that I was bint Wakufunzi, but I think his greatest concern is that we do not understand what T'Pau had planned for us."

The Vulcan was quiet for a long moment, but the concern flowing through the bond lessened, and from that Uhura took some measure of relief.

"I found, during my years in diplomatic service," he told her, "that there were advantages in having a human wife. At times, Amanda was able to obtain information that would have been inaccessible to me. Her insight into interpersonal relations — especially those concerning our son — were far more accurate than my own. Because many of my people underestimated human intelligence, she was able to influence outcomes that would have been out of my reach. She never approved of bonding Spock to T'Pring."

She stared back into her foster father's placid face.

"I will tell Spock," she said.

Sarek nodded, then turned and walked off into the fading darkness.

* * *

**A/N:** Not sure the title of this chapter makes sense to everyone, but it's better than the title I used in the outline, which was "Tying Up Loose Ends." I hope some were tied for you folks. Reviews help me update faster and are the only way I get paid.

* The name Tabansi is said to mean "he who endures." He gets a raw deal in every fic I've ever put him in, but always manages to survive.

Disclaimer: I still don't own 'em.


	28. Clarity

The door opened with almost no sound, and no light spilled in from the corridor beyond. Only the slight disturbance of air, carrying _her_ scent, alerted Spock to the fact that Nyota had arrived. She had fully shielded herself from him, realized. She had not done so since opening to him the first night they had spent in her quarters. Any sense of her he felt now was filtered through the familial bond. He could not determine if he felt her through his father, or if it was through his t'dahsu.

He rose from her bed to greet her, but stilled before speaking.

He knew the moment she became aware of his presence, the exact nanosecond her eyes fell on his pale flesh, lit by moonlight.

With a faint gasp, she halted her forward motion and stumbled back against the door.

* * *

Sarek found the son he'd gained from another universe keeping company with the uncle of his new daughter. An abandoned chess game sat on a table in the sitting room. The human man appeared tired, but determined to stay awake. Although his son appeared entirely composed, Sarek knew that his own brief moments of concern had somewhat diminished Spock's earlier acceptance of Uhura's safety.

"She is well in body," he told them before either could ask. "And I have reason to hope that she shall be well in mind after speaking with her mate."

Using as few words as he could manage while remaining precise, he shared what he had learned and what he had revealed with Spock and Tabansi.

The communications minister almost instantly sank into a reflective pose, and Sarek could not tell what he was thinking or feeling. Bin Wakufunzi, it seemed, were very well trained. His son, however, did not shield himself quickly enough that the Vulcan did not sense the disquiet and trepidation his story caused.

Silence stretched long, but the three men — each of whom had lost a mate — had found ample opportunity to become accustomed to silence.

* * *

"Gods, Spock! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Uhura pressed herself against the door, her hands fisted at her sides.

Spock walked forward again. "Nyota— " he started, but she cut him off.

"Put some clothes on! Gods, why are you _naked_?" she shook her head even as her eyes raked the long expanse of skin. She, unsuccessfully, not to follow the trail of hair that led from his muscled chest, narrowing at his abdomen before exploding into a wild tangle around his sex. She sucked in a breath as she glimpsed the long shaft hanging at the apex of his things. "You can't be naked in here, Spock. Please." She didn't care that she was begging him. Her eyes snapped closed.

He hadn't stopped coming towards her, and now he stood close enough for her to smell the spice and copper scent of his flesh and feel the heat he radiated.

"Please," she whispered again.

Spock's hands found her face, his body touched hers. "I am here, beloved," he murmured.

"I told you, k'diwa," she whispered, breathing him in and hating that she loved his touch on her cheeks, "you can't have me unless you take _all_ of me." Raising her hands to push him away, she thought better of it when desire flared even before she made contact.

Spock slipped one hand around her shoulder and pulled her away from the door. Holding her close to his chest he enmeshed his other hand into her short curls. He tipped her head back so that she was forced to look at him.

"Nyota," he whispered against her lips, "I had no intention of initiating sexual activities tonight."

Shock gave her the presence of mind to do what she had thought herself unable to do before. She shoved against his chest. A wave of satisfaction filled her as he stepped back, although she knew it was a result of his willingness to be moved, rather than her physical strength.

"What are you doing here in my rooms, naked and touching me if you weren't looking for easy sex?"

She knew she was being cruel, but the long day and the entity's request and the impact of Sarek's revelation and the months she'd spent grieving over the love this man in front of her seemed so determined to throw away were all falling on her shoulders and she was sick of trying to pretend it was all more than she wanted to carry.

If Spock was wounded by her words, there was no indication of it that she could detect in his warm eyes. _Warm _eyes! _Gods, but she was tired. Warm eyes from Spock_. She shook her head at the thought.

"Never mind," she told him, turning abruptly and heading for her hygiene cubicle. "I need a shower and then I need sleep."

Spock was right behind her.

"You need _me_, beloved," he corrected her. "_That_ is why I am in your quarters, naked and touching you. I could feel your need of me before you closed the bond. And, while I am not averse to making love to you tonight, that is not why I am here."

Uhura couldn't argue with the truth. She ignored his last statement but conceded that she _did_ have need of him. There was so much she needed to share with him, and she didn't know how much longer he would be in a position to listen. She needed him to hold up his portion of everything — and maybe ever Uhura herself — while he was still able to help.

"Fine!" she snapped, holding onto the anger that was the only thing stopping her from reaching for him. "But I need a shower first."

* * *

"It would seem that tonight is a night well suited for disclosure," Spock said after all three had taken time to ruminate over both what the entity had asked of Uhura and what Sarek had divulged about Amanda's interference with T'Pau's plans. "There is much that I have not told you because I believed that I was obligated to share as little as possible in order to lessen the effects of my presence on the development of this universe. I see now I was in error. Some things should not have kept from those who are dearest to me."

He paused and then turned to address the human man.

"Tabansi, it is late and you will have duties to attend to. If you wish to retire for what little remains of the night, Nyota's sleeping chamber is unoccupied. I can share this with you at another time."

"No." Minister Wakufunzi's voice was strong. "I anticipated getting no sleep while my niece was in the valley and arranged my schedule fittingly. I have no classes to teach for the remainder of the week, and very few administrative duties. I will hear your story now."

Spock nodded, having expected his answer. He looked out his window to watch the moon he chosen for his Nyota set.

"I have told you both that when I found her, she was much as she was when she was fifty Terran years old, and that she had been altered. What I did not tell you was the way in which she had been changed."

Sarek and Tabansi listened closely to Spock's tale. When the elderly half-Vulcan was finished speaking, both sat back and, again, contemplated the ramifications of what they had learned.

Somewhat to his surprise, the senior male of the S'chn T'gai family did not find comfort in what his son had related, even as he acknowledged that should t this universe parallel that one, many obstacles to his other son's future happiness would be removed.

Tabansi Wakufunzi marveled at the power of this unknown entity and wasn't sure if the cold burn in his belly was because he hoped it was the same one this other little star had encountered, or if some part of him was praying that it was not.

* * *

"Leave it," Spock told her. He pulled the sleep shirt out of her hands and refolded it, placing the garment back in its assigned drawer. "The greater surface area of contact we share, the more I will be able to assist you."

She did not stop him, but he could hear her attempt to steady her breathing, searching for her center.

"If you think that the two of us being naked together for the first time in more than half a year will be conducive to you helping me sorting things out, you've clearly lost your Vulcan mind," she told him, the teasing in her tone sounding somewhat forced.

"You are too tired, ashal-veh, to endure the kind of love-making I would need of you if I intended such things for us tonight. I will control myself," he teased back, reveling in her shiver at the tender endearment he had never used before. "If you do not trust yourself to resist temptation, rest assured I will keep us both safe."

When she reacted with the laughter he had hoped for, Spock guided her over to bed and lay down, pulling her in next to him.

In the darkness, he opened himself fully and invited her to share with him all that she needed him to know.

* * *

The day was long. Logically, he was aware that the hours had been the same length as all others he had experienced, but the knowledge Nyota had shared made him eager to speak with Sarek. Although he had been loathe to leave her side — even to appease his own curiosity — he had decided to go to his father's official residence while she met with the student who had twice been with her while she submitted herself to the entity.

Sarek had not been home when he arrived, but he had decided to wait. Several hours passed before the ambassador returned. The day was long.

________________________

"Are you certain?" Spock sat in his father's private study, staring at the wall hangings in shades of burgundy, tan and orange. The color scheme reminded him of both Nyota and of his mother. "Did she tell you that she did this?"

Sarek poured out a two steaming cups of tea and handed one to his son.

"She did not have to tell me, Spock," he said. "Your mother did not deny it when I asked. Amanda's interest in Nyota Uhura preceded your mate's admittance to Starfleet Academy."

Spock's gaze dropped to his tea. He was unsure of how he felt about what his father was suggesting.

"I do not understand," he said finally, looking up at Sarek. "If she did not approach Nyota directly, how was she able to assure we would meet?" He did not add "and fall in love."

Sarek sipped his tea before answering.

"Sa-fu," he began, "why did you teach classes in the Xenolinguistics Department when most of your degrees are in the sciences?"

"The Academy had need of additional instructors," Spock stated, as if by rote. "As I had the sufficient knowledge to teach the courses, as well as the time to do so, it was only logical to offer my services."

"Yes, Spock," Sarek said, patience almost obvious in his voice, "but what made you even think to consider it?"

"Mother mentioned that…" Comprehension dawned, and he trailed off. "But I became an adjunct to the department three semesters before Nyota entered the Academy."

"As I have said, my son, Amanda's interest in your mate began well before she joined Starfleet in an official capacity."

He drained his tea and stood.

"Come," he ordered his son. "I must be at Council Hall when Nyota and T'Dun give their reports. Join me."

* * *

Uhura and T'Dun submitted their reports to a Council attendant, and then waited in the antechamber to be called to the Tvi-shal t'Honaya.

The summons never came.

Instead, the attendant — the same woman who had escorted them to their initial audience — returned to them half an hour after relieving them of their PADDs and bid them to return to their homes to await word from Councilor Sarek.

* * *

"It should have been me, samehk," Spock said. "I was wrong to have laid my burden at your feet."

Sarek's gaze was intense, but not unkind. "Protecting her is a burden we all share, sa-fu," he said. "It was good for me to see this being and how it interacted with her. However, you are correct that you must accompany her the next time. Although, from what Nyota has told me, it is possible that the entity does not differentiate between you and your t'dahsu, your mate will wish to have you at her side in this. I will make arrangements for us to go tonight."

"Us?" Spock raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Yes. T'Dun, your t'dahsu and I shall travel with you," his father explained. "You and your mate should not approach this being alone. Protecting _both_ of you is a burden we all share."

"T'Dun is not S'chn T'gai," Spock pointed out.

Something about Sarek's carefully blank expression struck him as off, but all his father said in response was, "No, but she is becoming an important ally. We will not go without her."

* * *

It found them immediately.

One moment, Uhura and Spock stood in the red sand of the valley, some distance away from the three who had traveled with them; the next they were surrounded by the glowing mist.

_You are two of two who are two of four_. _You are complete_. Its many voices filled both of their minds. _We are pleased you have chosen to cooperate_.

_What do you wish of us_? Spock asked. _We cannot agree to cooperate if we do not understand what it asked of us_.

_We are many and we are one and you must be the same_, it said instead of answering. _You must be whole to reset the balance_.

_Balance_? Having experienced the entity before, Uhura was more patient than Spock.

_We are in all times and in none_, it said. _We have seen what was and what will be and know what can be and what should be_. _You did not show him the truth and he waited until it was too late_. _You must fix the balance that was broken_.

_What do you think we have done? What have we broken?_ Spock demanded. He slipped an arm around Nyota, although logic told him that this would be no defense against a being that could enter their minds so effortlessly.

_You waited too long in the time that was and will be_, it told him. _You turned away in the time that is_. _The balance was broken in both_. _Her power must not grow_.

_Who? Whose power must we block_? Uhura asked, intrigued. She had thought that this was somehow about her and Spock.

An image of T'Pau spread across both of their minds.

_She must not succeed_, the entity told them.

_What are her plans_? Spock asked. _What must we do to stop her_?

_She must not succeed_, it said again.

_How_? he demanded.

_You must be whole to reset the balance_, it told them. _Without the balance, there will be nothing in the time that will be_.

_We will try to fix what is wrong if you will tell us what we must do_. Uhura felt nearly as agitated as Spock. _Tell us what we must do_!

_You must be whole_, it said. And then the light was receding and the air began to clear.

________________________

Uhura stood in the circle of Spock's arms, unsure of what she must do, but certain she could not do it without Spock. She wanted to call the entity back, explain that she hadn't been the one who had failed to "show him the truth"; that this Spock had not been the one who "waited too long." They had not been the ones to allow T'Pau to break this balance, whatever it might be.

But the being's words had struck dear deep inside her. _Without the balance, there will be nothing in the time that will be_.

She would remain "whole" if it meant stopping T'Pau.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry to any of you who thought that Spock and Uhura were going to be doing anything but linking. Two more chapters after this, although reader question have forced me to start outlining a sequel. Look for it after I complete _Then Comes Spock_ and _Don't Lose Your Compass_.

Disclaimer: You know I don't own anything Trek!


	29. Sanctuary Found

"Long range sensors detect a wessel approaching colony space at varp six, Keptin," Chekov called out from his station.

Kirk stiffened in the command chair. No supply ships were due to enter the colony space for the next several days. He hadn't received word of any authorized visitors scheduled to arrive.

"Ship's identity, Ensign?"

"Unknown, sir. Wessel will enter scanning range vithin ten minutes," the Russian responded. His attempts at maintaining a serious expression didn't hide the hint of anticipation lighting his features. It seemed even he had been getting bored with the status quo.

The captain turned to his science officer's temporary replacement. She, at least, was both nice to look at and had come with a personality already installed. "Ensign Datcher?"

"Confirmed, Captain," she told him.

The past five days on the Enterprise had been even quieter than he had come to expect their entire five-year mission might turn out to be. Even Sulu's enthusiastic accounts of having piloted the Uhz-Palikaya had waned as tedium set in again. Not much went on in the space around the colony planet. He suspected Ambassador Spock had chosen it as much for the inactivity as he had for its similarities to his destroyed homeworld and the moon which that world had lacked.

In less than ten minutes, they all might be on the receiving end of enough excitement to make up for the past two years. Kirk hoped it wouldn't be more than they were hoping for.

* * *

Since there was no one in the room to see him, Tabansi shifted uncomfortably in his seat. For all of his claims that his Second Star's family was _his_ family, he was not sure he would truly welcome at this meeting. Yes, what needed to be said would probably impact Nyota's life more directly than it would the Vulcan people, but some things were only discussed within the confines of the family circle. That went trebly for Vulcans. And Tabansi was a Wakufunzi, not a S'chn T'gai.

Voices sounded from outside the room and Tabansi quickly composed himself. Perhaps his discomfort came more from having been the first to arrive, rather than any sense of not belonging, he decided. He rose to his feet as the door swung open to admit Ambassadors Sarek and Spock.

"Minister Wakufunzi," Sarek said by way of greeting. "I apologize for my delayed return. There were some matters that needed my attention before Spock and Nyota's arrival."

Tabansi nodded his acceptance that circumstances sometimes got in the way of intentions.

Spock was more forthcoming. "My father wished to be prepared should they decide to go forward with the bonding," he explained.

The Communications Minister looked sharply at Sarek. "Surely it would be presumptuous to expect them to decide so soon?"

"It would be," Sarek conceded. "Nevertheless, they have waited more than long enough for this. We do not know how long we will have my son with us. I merely wish to give them the opportunity if they request it."

Privately, Tabansi questioned the wisdom of this. Spock had already showed signs of feeling manipulated by nearly everyone around him. He was not sure having an elder on hand to perform the bonding ceremony just a day after the couple had met with the entity — another being that seemingly was encouraging the two to bond — was the best course to take. He said none of this, however.

The half-Vulcan sent him a knowing look. He, Tabansi realized, was probably thinking along the same lines.

The door opened again to reveal Nyota and Spock. Three pairs of eyes followed his hand as he placed it on her waist, urging her to precede him.

Then Sarek met the gaze of first the elder Spock and then Tabansi. The human would not have sworn to it, but he thought he saw satisfaction on the Vulcan face.

.

.

Spock knew they all had watched with interest as he had guided Nyota into his father's study. He suspected they had seen more in the simple gesture than he had intended to convey. He hoped they would not be too disappointed when they realized the truth.

Sarek began speaking as soon as they were all seated.

"T'Pau will arrive in thirty minutes," he told the group. "I have told her that we wish to discuss Spock and Nyota's meeting with the being before presenting our final reports to the full Council. I did not tell her everything it said."

Eyebrows raised around the room as everyone waited for him to continue.

"I believe she will be more amenable to offering us her support once she is aware of the entirety of your meeting," Sarek explained.

Nyota was the first to break the confused silence that followed.

"Support us in what, exactly?" she asked, caution shading her voice.

Sarek's placid expression did not alter, but Spock thought his father expected them all to know what he was referring to.

"Some members of the Council are not convinced that our current efforts towards building the communications grid will achieve any favorable result. All here have agreed with the conclusion that the entity was deliberating interfering with our equipment in order to draw Nyota here so that it could make contact with her," he said. "It wanted her here, among Vulcans on our colony because it does not consider her to be a complete being in the absence of Spock. As it was able to convey its wishes to both of them, if our theory is correct, there it no longer has reason to disrupt the network.

"Once T'Pau understands this, she will vote that we move forward with the building. Since the entity's inactivity is contingent on Nyota and Spock acting as one, she will be forced to rescind her objection to their bonding."

"Bonding?" Nyota choked out at the same moment Spock said, "I was under the impression that T'Pau _wanted_ Nyota as my mate."

Sarek looked first at Nyota. "Yes, ko-fu," he told her. "I have secured the services of an elder if you and my son wish to proceed in that manner." He turned to Spock. "While it once was true that she was willing so see you joined to Nyota, her position on the matter changed after the destruction of our planet."

Spock nodded once. His father's words and actions were reasonable.

"We don't need the elder." Nyota's soft words were like a shout in the quiet study and like a punch in Spock's stomach.

He glanced around to see sympathetic looks on Tabansi's and his t'dahsu's faces. His father remained expressionless.

"The entity expects me to stay with Spock, and I will," she continued. "I'll resign my commission in three years when he leaves Starfleet and I'll petition for permission to live here on the colony. But he and I haven't discussed bonding."

The room was silent again after she finished speaking. None of the men knew what to say, it seemed.

* * *

"Captain, the unidentified ship is hailing us." Lieutenant, junior grade, Saunders broke the tense silence of the bridge. Jim was too grateful for the chance to _do_ something to wince at the excruciatingly painful monotone.

"Open a channel, Mr. Saunders," he ordered. A moment later the strange ship hanging in the starry expanse on the forward viewscreen was replaced with the sight of an alien bridge and an unfamiliar face with slanted eyebrows and pointed ears. For the nine hundred eighty-seven thousandth time that week, Kirk found himself he had his first officer and his chief communications officer back on the ship. Surely both of them could tell a Vulcan from a Romulan.

* * *

The meeting with T'Pau was shorter than Uhura had been expecting. She hadn't responded to allusions of the ominous results of her future actions, but no one, Uhura suspected, believed that she was completely surprised to hear they knew she had plans of some sort. It was fascinating to see how quickly the old woman capitulated without seeming to give up any ground.

"I will support you in this," she told the gathering. "Minister Wakufunzi has brought with him sufficient supplies to break ground on a preliminary grid, and many of Savensu Uhura's students have progressed to point to offer adequate assistance for such a project. Rebuilding the communications network can begin as soon as the full Council vote is in."

Spock sat stiffly in his chair throughout the meeting, not speaking once, even though the story was half his to tell.

When T'Pau stood to take her leave, she stopped in front of the young half-Vulcan.

"Walk with me, Spock," she ordered and he compiled with no apparent hesitation.

.

.

He did not know what she wanted, and was not sure he wanted to find out. He was still reeling from Nyota's rejection of the elder who was prepared to perform the bonding ceremony whenever they were ready for it. Even in his darkest, coldest moments over the past several months, Spock had held on to the idea that his beloved wanted him, wanted to be with him, no matter what.

As long as she could have his full commitment, he had believed, she would give herself to him. Learning that this might not be the case hurt more than he was prepared to deal with. It was no use reminding himself that she had not rejected the idea outright — she had only said that it was not something that they had discussed — the fact that she had not leapt at the chance to become his adun'a was, under the circumstances, illogically painful.

"You have probably learned more about your life and the people who have tried to shape it than anyone should ever know," T'Pau was saying to him. Spock snapped out of his reflections to attend to her words. "If it were up to me, you would never have been allowed to become aware of these things. However, that decision was taken out of my hands.

"Now that you know, child, I hope you will use the knowledge wisely. The human in you wishes to rebel, to reject all that we have planned, even if it is not what your human heart desires.

"I believe they have an expression for such a thing — Do not cut off your nose to spite your face, Spock. There is no challenge for me in winning simply because you allow your anger to make you fail."

She swept away, leaving Spock alone with additional thoughts to weigh on his mind.

* * *

_Captain's log, supplemental:_

_We were hailed by an unknown starship crewed entirely by a group from a colony previously unknown to the Vulcan High Council. Their captain has asked me to intercede on their behalf in their request to join in the rebuilding efforts. Captain Kuron claims that while his people are followers of Surak, their interpretations of his teachings varied enough from that of the majority that their ancestors left Vulcan more than eight hundred years ago in order to live their lives as they believed the ancient philosopher had directed them to do._

_They chose to approach the Enterprise rather than contact the new colony directly because, as Kuron told me, _"You are known to one among us, and she has assured us that you will prove a valuable ally."

_Rather than ask how anyone from a colony that's been out of contact with the Federation for more than eight hundred years could possibly know me, I asked to meet this mystery woman._

_At first, she was just another Vulcan face — and I've seen _a lot_ of Vulcan faces lately — but after a moment or two of staring at this woman they call Ambassador T'Khio'ri began to look somewhat familiar._

_I realized I had been excused for the totally involuntary _"Oh shit!" _when the ambassador responded with, _"Oh, Jim, you haven't even had time to grow up yet!"

_While we wait for instructions from the colony, I have invited the ambassador and some of the senior crew of her ship to the Enterprise. Her story should be an interesting one. She has only been with the colonists for twenty-four years, but tells me there are others who need to know her history before she can share it with me. I'm pretty sure I know who at least one of those "others" might be._

_The High Council is in some kind of meeting and will probably take some time before they are able to advise us on how to proceed. If I can't get T'Khio'ri's story in that time, perhaps I will at least get to learn more about the colony she represents. _

_It will also be interesting to observe what they think of the Enterprise crew, as we're mostly Terrans, here. Most of what they know of humans has come from her. _

* * *

T'Dun was already waiting in the antechamber to the Tvi-shal t'Honaya when Uhura, Tabansi and the S'chn T'gais arrived.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Uhura told the Vulcan woman.

T'Dun tipped her head to the side. "At times, humans attempt to use humor to diffuse uncomfortable situations," she observed. "Are you feeling ill at ease, Savensu? Are you concerned about the outcome of our audience with the Council?"

Uhura smiled at her student and friend. She hadn't been lying when she'd told the older Spock that T'Dun didn't find human behavior off-putting; indeed the young Vulcan seemed intrigued by it and determined to gain at least a basic understanding of what made Terrans tick. She didn't shy away from asking her teacher about what she was feeling.

"Yes and no," she replied, "I am ill at ease, but it has nothing to do with the Council. I am certain our reports, combined with our testimony, will convince them to allow us to move forward." She glanced back to where the men had assembled across the small room. "I am… somewhat discomfited by the way in which the men of my family have chosen to try to direct the course of my life."

T'Dun followed her gaze and then nodded in understanding.

"It is only logical for members of one's family to wish to assure one's well-being," she said. "Even among Vulcans, however, men do not always understand the wishes of women."

.

.

After both T'Dun and Sarek — as a reporting party, he had recused himself from the vote — had given their testimony before the Council, Nyota was called. Spock was pleased to the last one to speak before Minister Wakufunzi would present his feasibility report. His head was still full of both his beloved's and T'Pau's words. There had been no time for him to meditate on how he felt about either.

Before Nyota began speaking, Spock noticed the attendant who had led them in the Tvi-shal t'Honaya enter through a door behind the dais. She spoke quietly into Verdak's ear before exiting again.

Councilor Verdak turned to his fellow members, and, after a quick conference, addressed the testifiers and Ambassador Spock.

"This audience must be adjourned until a time to be determined at a later date," he announced. "The Enterprise has intercepted a ship claiming to have traveled from a colony established by people who left the homeworld eight hundred twenty-three years ago. They have requested that Ambassador Spock, Commander Spock and Lt. Uhura be present when their representatives meet with the High Council."

No one said anything, but the six people not sitting on the dais exchanged glances.

"Minister Wakufunzi, T'Dun," T'Pau addressed them, "you are excused. Savensu Uhura, Spock, Sarek and Ambassador Spock, you may remain here while we arrange transportation with Captain Kirk.

* * *

As soon as familiar tingling of the transporter faded, Kirk searched for Ambassador Spock. Just as he had expected the old man's eyes were riveted on Ambassador T'Khio'ri. Jim smiled to himself. This was going to be interesting. Sometimes, even babysitting visiting dignitaries had its merits.

.

.

Spock could not hold back a gasp when the visitors finished materializing just outside the Council Hall. Before he knew what his body intended, he was moving forward to the small woman who stood serenely at the head of the small party.

He stopped, three feet away from her and raked his eyes over her face. When her eyes, dark and warm beneath her slanting eyebrows met his, he gasped again.

"Spock," she said and stepped forward.

"T'Khio'ri," he murmured and held up his middle and index fingers for her to touch.

* * *

The moon was out again before they were able to leave Council Hall.

Almost everyone was satisfied with the work of the day. As T'Pau had predicted, Tabansi and Uhura had been granted permission to begin building the network. Their students still had much to learn — some would need extensive training — but enough of them had engineering backgrounds to facilitate a successful ground-breaking.

Kuron and T'Khio'ri would continue to negotiate terms with the Council over the next several days, but had received preliminary approval to bring their people to the colony planet. Their ways were somewhat different from the practices of the Vulcans who had not broken from the home planet, but as Sarek continued to say, change would be needed to ensure the survival of their people.

Uhura stared at the luminous orb from the single window in her quarters.

"What do you want?" she asked, although part of her was afraid to hear his answer.

"I want _all_ of you, Nyota," he told her.

"Are you sure?" she asked, not ready to trust that he wouldn't change his mind, that he wouldn't come to regret his decision some time in the future.

"I am certain, beloved," he said, closing the gap between them. "I have known what I _wanted_ for a long time. You are asking, perhaps, if I am certain that this is what I _should_ do. It is."

"But what about 'rebuilding your race'?" she demanded, resisting twinned urges to back away and to wrap herself in the heat of his body. "What about my other… commitments? That won't change, Spock. What about T'Pau and your mother and everything everyone else did?"

"Ambassadors Spock and T'Khio'ri will provide children that carry any genes that I could have provided. My contribution is unnecessary," he said, his voice quiet and steady. "When I chose a life in Starfleet, I knew that there would be times when my life might be endangered. I understood, as fell in love with you, that you might face similar risks, and I accepted that. Being bint Wakufunzi means that you are better equipped to manage during difficult situations. I take comfort in that.

"You told me once, that it does not matter how we came to be, as the love we have for one another is real. Your assessment of the situation was correct, ashal-veh. Only my human propensity towards stubbornness prevented me from conceding the point." His lips twitched up at the tiny dig at humanity and she had to suppress a smile of her own.

"You also told me that I was seeking the approval of a people who had not accepted me as I was," he went on. "It was difficult for me to recognize the truth in this as such an illogical pursuit goes against the teachings by which I endeavored to live my life. However, I understand now that you were correct in this, as well."

Uhura bit her lip, still uncertain. She didn't point out that genetic diversity would be increased if every Vulcan had more than a single mate. These were things he already knew.

"You don't know that they'll bond now she's found him again," she said, not ready to bring up her true fears. "She might already have an adun back on her colony."

"She does not," he protested. "There is no one for T'Khio'ri but Spock. They will bond and they will have children because she has waited most of her life for him. It would be illogical for either of them to choose any other path."

The word "illogical" struck a nerve and suddenly she was brave enough for full honesty.

"Just because Spock is _her_ 'happily ever after' doesn't mean that you're mine. How am I to know you'll still feel this way three years, ten years or fifty years from now?" she asked. "You hurt me, Spock! When you told me you were eventually going to walk away as if loving me didn't matter. As if my love didn't matter. For _two years_ you let believe we were forever, and then you snatched it away! And then you had the nerve to get mad at me because I didn't tell you everything about me right away!"

"One hundred years from now, I will know that my place was and is with you, Nyota," he said gravely. "I regret hurting you, but I cannot undo what occurred in the past. I can only hope to do better in our future."

"Why should I believe you won't regret choosing me?" she demanded again, unsatisfied with his assurances. "What makes you so sure you're not going to wake up one day and realize that you were just going along with what everyone else wanted you to do, and that you don't want this after all? Am I supposed to just live my life waiting for that day?"

He smiled at her. It was the rare, open — full — smile that she suspected he had shared with few others. It was beautiful.

"You will have to trust me, beloved," he told her. "And you must have faith in my love for you."

She didn't resist when his arms came around her and held her against his heated body.

"I was once advised to do what felt right, Nyota," he murmured, his chin resting on the top of her head. "_This_ feels right. You in my arms feels right. _You_ feel right."

Her hands met at his back as she returned the embrace. _He_ felt right.

"We'll see, okay?" she breathed into the fabric of his shirt. "We'll see."

* * *

**A/N:** Ambassador T'Khio'ri's story will be addressed in the coming sequel. One more chapter to go.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Star Trek. That honor belongs to Paramount.


	30. In Spite of Everything

"So you'll bond with him?" Uhura asked. "In spite of everything, you'll take him back and spend the rest of your life connected to him?"

T'Khio'ri looked at her with kind, laughing, _knowing_ eyes. All her years with Spock, and the more than half a year she had spent with his counterpart, had not accustomed Uhura to seeing such obvious expression on a Vulcan face.

"You are still young, Nyota Uhura," the ambassador told her. "Your love is still young, though it is deep. And your pride is still strong. If you had to live as long as I did, waiting for your Spock, the love would overpower the pride and you would never wish to send him away. In spite of everything."

Uhura sighed. The woman before her had waited for the man she loved through countless years and missed opportunities and even through his near-bonding with another. Really, T'Khio'ri had suffered a lot more than Uhura had on the path to love. And she was still willing to give it a chance.

"I just want to be sure of him," she admitted, staring at the table between them. "I need to know that taking the risk is worth it. I don't want to be hurt again."

A warm hand enveloped hers, and she looked up in the Vulcan's smooth brown face.

"You can be sure of nothing, Nyota," T'Khio'ri told her. "There is always risk in love. Accept right now that there will be times when he _will_ hurt you, just as there will be times when you will hurt him. An important part of loving someone is learning to move beyond the hurt."

* * *

"You did a good job, Jim," Admiral Pike told him. He smiled widely out of the viewscreen. "Didn't I tell you they'd figure it out eventually? All they needed was to see how you handled yourself in a tricky situation. Your part in the negotiations with the colonists proved you were more than a one-hit wonder. You showed them you can be diplomatic when needed, but, more importantly, you showed them you're a real commander."

Kirk smiled back at his mentor, but to tell the truth, he wasn't sure how happy he was about the news. It was great that Starfleet Command was finally going to let the Enterprise serve as something more than a glorified ferry service and head nanny, but the timing could have been better.

Uhura was committed to the Vulcans for another six months and he knew Spock hadn't quite patched things up with her yet. He wasn't looking forward to three months in the neutral zone with a cranky Vulcan on board.

"Thank you, sir," he said because there was nothing else to say.

It wasn't like he could have said, "I'm sorry, sir, but we can't except this mission until my first officer finishes groveling at his girlfriend's feet. And since we're waiting anyway, I'd like to hold off until she's back on board because her replacement bores the whole bridge crew to tears every Alpha shift. If we have to take much more of him, someone might try to execute the guy and I just don't want the responsibility of seeing one of my crew punished for doing what all of want to do anyway."

Starfleet Command probably didn't take kindly to statements like that. Not even Christopher Pike was _that_ understanding. And the USS Reliant was long overdue for relief.

After Pike ended the communication, Kirk dropped his head into his hands. He really wasn't looking forward to calling Spock back to the ship.

_You're the one who wanted to be captain_, a voice in his head reminded him. _Sometimes you've got to make the hard choices. Ensuring good of the many takes precedence over securing the happiness of the few_.

"Which is the same fucking mindset that got Spock into this mess," he said aloud. "Sometimes being captain sucks."

* * *

Spock stood in Nyota's quarters, a packed duffle at his feet. He did not have to be at the beam-up point for another thirty minutes, and he was determined to spend as much of that time as was possible convincing her he was a changed Vulcan.

"I will not give up on you, ashayam," he whispered into her hair.

She did not lift her face from his chest.

"But you _would have_," she murmured, pressing closer to him. Her voice was shaking.

He held her tighter as well.

"I will not," he said.

"Because you think you can't." It was important to hear him acknowledge the truth of it. "You would, but you can't. So you will hold on."

He did not answer right away. Her pain washed between them. Knowing that speaking the truth would not lessen her anguish hurt him.

"I will not because I do not _wish_ to," he repeated. Silently he begged for it to be enough. "For as long as you wish it, beloved, I am yours."

She turned her head so that her cheek rested against his breastbone. Her voice was clear and steady when she asked, "Forever?"

He shuddered — with relief, with gratitude and with no small measure of shame — in awe of this woman who was strong enough to trust him again in spite of his mistakes, who chose not to walk away.

"Forever," he echoed, his voice garbled and unsteady.

A cool hand snaked up his chest and past his neck to stroke his jaw.

"It's enough," she told him.

Spock's lips found hers and did not leave them again until they were breathless and it was nearly time for him to rush over to the transportation site. He mentally frowned at the colony's lack of its own transporter facilities. Nyota laughed into the crook of his neck.

"That's one of the things Sarek wants to change," she told him. "If Vulcans are going to be less isolated this time around, they will need to build transporters on the colony. It'll get done, k'diwa."

He grimaced for real this time.

"That does not give me more time with you _now_, beloved," he complained.

Nyota rose on her toes and pressed her lips against his once more.

"Three months," she reminded him as she dropped back down. "And just another three after that before I'm back on the Enterprise."

He rested his forehead against hers.

"I will be waiting for you, ashayam."

* * *

Bones hadn't known what he was expecting to hear when the Enterprise's first officer had requested a private meeting in the doctor's quarters, but he knew for damned sure this wasn't it.

That Spock and Ms. Uhura were planning marry and bond at the end of the Enterprise's five-year mission wasn't that big of a shock — anyone with half a brain could have seen that one coming. The half-Vulcan had been damned-near cheerful since getting back on the ship a week ago.

But, this other thing — damn it, the overgrown elf just couldn't go around asking things like that.

"Me!" he snapped. "Why the hell are you asking me? Why not ask the other Spock"

Spock raised a mocking brow.

"You believe it would be appropriate for me to act as my own best man?" he asked.

"I don't even like you!"

"I have it on good authority that you do," Spock replied.

"Now Spock, a genius like you oughta know better than to trust anything a woman in love has to say about her friends," McCoy protested. "They want everyone to see sunshine and roses just like they do."

Spock's lips twitched up. "While Nyota has assured me of your essential good nature numerous times," he said, "she is not the authority to which I was referring."

Nonplussed, Bones gaped at the half-Vulcan.

"Well, who the hell else has been telling tales behind my back?" he demanded. "Never mind. Look, you don't want someone with my track record standing up for you. My ex took everything in the divorce and left me with nothing but my skeleton and an appreciation for bourbon. I'd probably get sloshed right before the ceremony and lose the rings."

"I am aware that the responsibilities of a best man traditionally include advising and supporting the groom in the time before the wedding," was Spock's rather dry response. McCoy was too flustered to notice that he had avoided answering the question. "You have already made an adequate start on fulfilling those duties, both when you suggested that I consider the unhappy results of your own marriage, and just now, in your attempts to dissuade me from my choice. And, of course, your other argument also lacks merit, doctor."

Bones blinked, unsure of what the green-blooded elf might say next.

"If my counterpart could trust yours to hold his katra," Spock told him, "I believe I can trust _you_ to hold onto the rings."

For the first time in recent memory, Bones struggled to find a snappy comeback.

"Well, uh, fine," he managed. "Three years can be a long time. If you haven't changed your mind by then — or she hasn't ripped your pointy-eared head off — I guess I can stand next to you while Jim jaws on about love and fidelity and other things he doesn't know anything about. Just don't go thinking you can do any of that tricking Vulcan mind stuff on me!"

Spock almost-smiled again.

"I assure you doctor, I have no wish to replicate the circumstances that led our counterparts to that moment in time," he said, rising to leave. "Thank you, Leonard."

The science officer exited without waiting for a response, leaving behind a truly speechless Leonard McCoy.

* * *

**A/N:** As promised, it's finished on my b-day! So, uh, that's all folks! Until the sequel, that is.

Disclaimer: I don't any of the characters, devices and very few of the concepts. And that's why I'm poor.


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